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My Front Porch |
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As I walk out the door and sit on
the step,
I reflect on the feelings I've had,
on my front porch.
A special friend would greet me
with a wagging tail,
no matter what,
on my front porch.
That brown, furry flash would leap
towards her bright green Frisbee,
ready to play,
on my front porch.
Returning from our walks her warm,
gentle eyes would say,
"Thanks. I had a great time,"
on my front porch.
Watching people pass we'd sit side
by side and exchange thoughts,
like childhood pals,
on my front porch.
If anything threatened us she'd
raise her voice and
angrily warn it to keep off
of the front porch.
As time passed she'd quietly crawl
to my side,
let out a sigh, and nap on my lap,
on my front porch.
Now I return each day, see the
cracked and faded Frisbee,
anticipate the loneliness, and remember my good friend,
on my front
porch.
C.K. Ogden