Angel

My dog Bo has a sixth sense.
He sees what I cannot see
When he wags his tail
At something in the air
And acts as if petted.
I could only see what he saw
When I saw it clearly in a dream.
He saw my angelic, dead sister
Come down from the heavens,
A halo around her head,
To bless and protect both of us,
A guardian angel from above.

Bob Boyd

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Author: BobBoyd

79, cancer survivor, work out 3 times a week, ride my exercise bike 2 hours daily. Began writing poetry October 2023, living in Greensboro, North Carolina, retired and enjoying a reclusive, solo, ever seeking knowledge life.

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