ELEANOR ROSS TAYLOR

Natural Distances

We let the dog run on the beach.
It was our beach.
He looked askance at the ocean.
He hated the waves.
Where did they come from?
Why wallop him?
But it was our beach;
he played along with us
until we went too deep,
and as we waved to him
he seemed to say a prayer.  

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   Contributor’s notes

   Fifteen Poems and Drafts Introduction
   In Celebration of Eleanor Ross Taylor