Monday, June 18, 2018

June 25, 2018





The Beagle
with a nod to Alfred, Lord Tennyson
She bites the bone with jowly jaws;
Halts its escape with padded paws,
Flush in the fire of sport, she gnaws.

In quiet triumph up she creeps;
Onto the master's bed she leaps,
And like the happy dead she sleeps.

by Daniel Galef
in volume 6 issue 1

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