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Dog Snot – Lit Up – Medium

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Sestina

Photo by Gabriel Gurrola on Unsplash

At six, my son fell in love with dog snot
That’s what he called the runny eggs I served
Before that he let them sit on his plate
Sometimes designing sun faces with them
Other times poking at them with his fork
Sending yellow rivulets here and there

My favorite photo of him sits there
The one where he’s wiping his face of snot
Next to the one where he’s holding his fork
Waiting for the peach pie he’s being served;
He dearly loved fruit pies, each one of them,
Clapping when a piece landed on his plate

Look right over there, he’s crossing home plate,
The memories of him bring me right back there
As I hold close to my heart each one of them
Even when he was a brat, full of snot
Up to when the photos stopped, when he served,
Standing at a crossroads, choosing a fork

I’m proud of his service, but not the fork,
Wish he’d been a teacher to fill his plate
But he wanted to save us, so he served
And all I have are the photos right there;
I never told him that eggs weren’t dog snot,
Now I can’t stand to look at or smell them

Why, oh dear why, is it us against them;
My hope is one day we’ll take the right fork,
Exchange our great love of guns for dog snot,
Assist our young ones get over home plate
As I wish I had done with my son right there;
See the photo of him; that’s life short-served

Still, he did what he could for us, he served
I’m proud of him, I’m proud of all of them;
I just regret that they died in war there
Sunny side up eggs pierced with a sharp fork
Rivers of yellow death filling his plate
So, yes my nostrils are filled with dog snot

Here and there, we remember those who served
Oh snot, one day a year we honor them
I lift my fork, pierce the egg on my plate



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Thanks !

Thanks for sharing this, you are awesome !