More in honor of trust and dogs.
Truest Love
The little dog lay on its back
in the semblance of
truest love.
The woman, leaning in from above, ignored
stained whiskers and breath like fish,
in the semblance of truest love.
The little dog exalted when she came home
as if she were its dearest wish,
the answer to heart’s prayer.
She said, ‘hey there,’ and stooped
to capture some wriggle.
The little dog saw her as
itself spelled backwards; she
accepted the role, thankful that
some being had finally taken
due note of her
existence, ignoring
breath like fish.
All rights reserved. Karin Gustafson
ManicDDaily 
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