Dogs and Worms and Poetry


 I shivered inside my layers as I pulled on my blue rain boots with the bright pink flowers.  It is cold in the rain today, but he doesn’t care. He is a dog. He prances through the rain and the mud the way only very small and very fluffy white dogs can. I sidestep worms, chased out of their thick brown homes to die calmly in puddles under the umbrella of the thick grey sky. I could say that this walk was awful, but I wrote a poem in my head as we went. I could say the walk was awful, but the poem felt like kissing you.



I would write a whole story based on this character, if only I knew more about who she is.

Comments

  1. I hope you meet her again. I would love to hear more of her story.

    ReplyDelete
  2. You will meet her on a rainy day walking your fluffy white dog. 💕

    ReplyDelete

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