The brown-haired girl stood on stone steps;
Rusty knocked her down.
My collie broke her leg, it seems.
Dad began to frown.
Thursday, Rusty’s bed lay empty;
nowhere to be found.
“He was only being friendly.”
At five, my heart was drowned.
Coco Puff, on loan, jumps on me and barks;
She follows me around—
Her Goldendoodleness needs play.
My heart becomes unbound.
Am I just the food provider
or something more profound?
Seventy years have slipped away,
my innocence re-found.