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.