I kept seeing you
before I even knew
there was a you,
walking with me
down to the road
for the morning paper.
I got colouring, height,
even your approximate age.
When you turned up at my door
thin and rather scruffy,
'You’ve been homeless a while
haven’t you?' I said,
bringing you in for a drink.
Then I looked again.
'Oh, it’s you,' I said.
'You’ve arrived.'
[Poem #7]
Disclosure:
I can name this one because
a) he’s long dead now, after a good life, and
b) he was my wonderful dog.
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