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  • Carly Feinman

Day 43- 10.29.20

It's molten, this energy


I go down to the park

just as dusk reveals

a full, yellow moon hanging high in the sky

like a journeyman's handheld lamp.


I hear them before I see them.

The dogs.

The dogs tumbling and darting,

dogs rolling and pawing,

and even dogs leaping like spidermonkeys,

hell-bent on being as wild as possible

within the confines of this gated dog park.


It's the last romp of the day for them

and they revel in it,

in this rubber-band ball

of euphoric mischief.

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