I whom the dogs trust
dog you all night
under my arm
so many new years days
to mark per year
my fingers hurt
from stroking the sun
these sulky strays
lick
my tongues
my hurts clean
as an echo
rippling through the valley
how can I thank them?
where will you be then?
Copyright © 2021 by Hao Guang Tse. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on June 14, 2021, by the Academy of American Poets.