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A Fresh Morning MAG
She hooks a leash
onto the blaring
99-cent collar
an expectant furry face
stares up at her. She sees that
the white
is flecked with gray and she knows
there is not much time
left.
But how they love to run
Icy pre-dawn air rushes through their lungs
as they move faster
and faster
and faster
All at once, she can barely see
her legs pain her so badly
four old instruments of torture
but she is so happy
this is what she loves most
breathing fresh air
feeling grass
beneath her
feet
she spends her last moments
this way,
dropping to the ground
in complete bliss
© Anonymous
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