Saturday, November 17, 2018

My Lame Attempt at Poetry

Riding Cole on the Trail

My feet are cold,
Slow down.
There are some deer.
I hope they don't run and startle my Cole.
It looks like rain.
Slow down.
Just go through the mud; it won't hurt you. My hands are cold.
Slow down.
The river looks pretty.
I think I am having a problem.
Whoa! Whoa!
Just walk.
Look at those pretty ducks.
Trot.
Steady, steady, easy.
Good boy.  That was beautiful.


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