“The Appearance Of My Noble Guide” by Tami Boehle-Satterfield

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Waiting for Momma
To drop her weight
And let loose.
Spilling
A mess of
Little tykes.
I will be wide eyed,
Like Christmas morning
Or Sunday morning at the bakery.
This reverent day.
Indeed,
I will be hooked.

Without ears and eyes,
Soft, warm, wet
Heartbeats.
Scoops of sugar.
Do they know
My squeals of delight,
My eyebrows raised in anticipation,
My wide grin at their appearance?
And you, my destined whelp,
Do you already know
That you are my
Pick of the litter?

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