At Least You Weren’t Alone

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Photo by Skitterphoto from Pexels

It is a hot summer day, I’m hot and sore.

Sweat runs into my eyes, as I bring the shovel down yet again on rocky soil.

You stand beside me, and finally tell me the hole is deep enough.

The dog’s coffin is a cardboard box that boots came in.

We lower the box into the ground, and I cover it up again.

We don’t say much, and you are distant and businesslike.

But we went through that together, at least you weren’t alone.

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