poetry and prose by stephen chute
Sunday, July 27, 2025
his heart in snow
the dog
you knew, yes, that one,
the one
in the picture
in your wallet, your
first son,
is now
in snow.
blue eyed,
blurred.
the fetch was such
a long
time ago.
so you hold him.
you hold
him close,
as his heart,
no longer determined,
slows.
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