Poem of the Week

Rescue

I first met my dog
in a small room at a shelter
wearing a paper collar
with a name that didn’t suit her
tethered to disposable leash
held by a stranger to both of us
and the second thing she did
was find a corner
to make herself as small as possible
after the first thing she did
which was pee on the floor
and the third thing she did
was look at all of us
in a way that said
I don’t understand
anything
and all I want to do is run

And when I cry
for no reason
she jumps into my lap
and licks my face
and stays

~HC
revised 13 Jul 2025

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