In honor of Jack Black, who may never be potty trained, but does know how to sit for a biscuit!
BISCUIT
The dog has cleaned his bowl
and his reward is a biscuit,
which I put in his mouth
like a priest offering the host.
I can't bear that trusting face!
He asks for bread, expects
bread, and I in my power
might have given him a stone.
Jane Kenyon
1 comment:
Both the poem and the picture wring my heart like a dishcloth!
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