I dig a hole in the backyard.
Grass stains my hands
as I bury all my simple treasures;
words and ribbons and bones.
I pray that you won’t find them
as I wait for night to fall
so I can dig them out frantically,
lay them out one by one to admire with fervent joy.
I wait for you as the sun rises,
hiding my hands- mud covered,
sitting, fetching, adoring you
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