he was out strolling as were we
on this lovely summer morning,
stopping for a moment
to graze on succulent grasses,
then moving on
so gracefully
I watched, rapt, at the shimmer of
his muscles, the elegant rack of antlers,
straining to hear him move
hearing nothing
while Bella wandered nearby,
her nose deep in exploration,
the endless search for the dead or
dying, as if she had no eyes
to see.
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