Puppies play on a safer ground and no mines.
The skinny Mom calls them for milk
But they ignore and play on, seems not hungry.
Poor Dad goes out in the silent night
...
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A very original way of crying for the moon which often seems to elude the best of us. You paint an endearing picture, but a sad one. Always your friend, Sandra
An enigmatic poem about a curious relationship written with your usual poetic brilliance. I love the concept of the moon providing milk for the Dad and his family and the aloofness of her response to his entreaties. I had a labrador dog once (many years ago) who used to sing to the moon. He would lift his beautiful head and make magical music when the moon was full. I've never forgotten him. Thanks for the reminder and this superb poem. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥