2007-05-09
Oh bandit and the moon
oh spring and your endless suggestions to go outside and forget the interior life were I a mailman or a park ranger, were I a professional dog walker, all of this would be possible.
The smell of budding trees and globby dirt, the love of a bunshine who will be super, I hope, and the paws of my bandit sticky with mud, or soft as the sandpaper of finest grit.