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Buddhas

smiles this morning
brisk March sun, thirty-something
two fat Buddhas approach us
with robin-red bellies
full of Easter eggs,
& frozen worms
the beagle is buddha too
the two do not fly
Bella does not chase
she hardly hears, sees, or smells anymore
fifteen, she is a hundred and five,
but her tail still wags
top o’ the morning
to all

 

© –Limericist 2014

 
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Posted by on March 8, 2021 in Poetry

 

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