B (Bella)


August 2016 – June 2018

My B—

Not “my”

As much as why

Did you come to me?


I saw you pregnant

From far away

Astray, and I knew

Exactly where you were.


I drove like fire

On a whim of a hunch

Two miles of corners

Dirt roads to a bunch—


Of dogs on the run

Toward a mare and her colt—

With unborn pups

Your belly did bloat.


I honked and beeped

dusted the dirt road

Till a pack of small dogs

Made a full carload.


I knew right then

that we would B

And such as why

You’d come to me.

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