Bright as fresh grass. A green-glass open window
Letting in spring air. A lamb to the slaughter
Sacred and pure. Soft snow falls, white as your fleece.
Easily dirtied, robbed of virtue.
A fruit tree sheltering, a home of companionship.
A comforting blanket, others warm to your smile.
Devoted like the sunrise, never failing, never absent.
The past. Some say a dog without a master.
Gone. A distant but clung-to memory.
A buzzing bee, bundle of joy.
An embrace, protecting against winter winds.
The second chance, the son, redeem.
A tree branch with etched, childish letters.
A sultan of Kabul.
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