Old dog lies in the sunshine:
“bake-dog,” my daughter says,
too young to understand
the ache of tired bones.

For that I am glad.

[And here is my poem for yesterday, which I didn’t get home in time to post.]

No exaggeration

a thousand gold stars fall
from your eyes

the noonday sun blazes
in your smile

you are the mysterious
depths of oceans

you are the welcoming
expanse of sky