Cheyenne, a Dog with a Purpose
Nov 7 · 1 min read
A poem

Cheyenne
not much of a morning girl
She hides away
under a blanket
or deep in her clam-shell bed
a gentle soul
biding her time
But a warm afternoon
and a fresh molehill?
She’s found heaven
She digs
snorting
tearing at the grass
with her teeth
intent on her prey
Then she stops
lies down on the ground
and waits
Not sure if she hears
or smells
or feels the mole
running below her…


