Sunday Night in Early Spring (Sonnet)

Old brown dog snores softly in her bed,
Tightly curled as soon Spring buds will be;
Old black dog stays out until the dark
Drives him from night where he cannot see.
And you, my silver dog, rest for a while,
Your rustling newsprint all the sound you make,
While I, your own old bitch, just sit and breathe,
In quiet air and love in peaceful state.
All four of us tonight are still and calm
And feel the chill of Winter as we tire;
We’ll all four breath more deeply soon, as Spring
Comes vining up and greening ever higher.
Till then, this bell jar full of fur and peace
Stills all our voices and makes worries cease.

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About janemwoodman

Singer, writer, restaurant reviewer, urban farmer, devoted lover of my husband....old and getting happier all the time.
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