by Mordicai Gerstein
You sleep under my bed,
yawning at dawn
when I wake you.
You swallow my feet
for breakfast.
You love to run
and though I'm fast
you always
want to run faster
and faster.
Do you wish I were
a horse?
Do you want to be
horseshoes
when you grow up?
from Dear Hot Dog by Mordicai Gerstein, 2011, Abrams
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