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Ashlyn Rimsky Oct 2020
What joy:

To hold
The world
In your arms -

Alive and warm
And soft
And breathing

Chest rising
And falling
Yet rising again

Always rising,
Like the golden
Dawn, consistent,

Always bright.
Always beautiful.
Somehow,

In my arms
Against the odds
I'm holding light.
To my golden retriever, Apollo, who somehow manages to love me unconditionally
shyguypoetry Oct 2016
Black, gracefully white.

Old joints, playfully youthful.

You're still my good girl.

— The End —