My backyard.
The place where I spend almost my entire day,
Playing with my dogs and cleaning up their mess,
Picking up their toys and putting them all together,
The smell of dog fills the air as long with their pork
skin smelling bones we get them from Walmart,
The sound of birds chirping all around the fence,
Waiting for the dogs to get away from their food bowl
to steal their kibble and then fly away.

  1. Katie 9 months ago

    I love how I can connect to your poem. Those bones are so stinky and yet brings dogs so much happiness. I can really picture your poem.

  2. Natasha 9 months ago

    I like how your poem discusses a very specific, personal place. It’s interesting how even chores (cleaning up after the dogs, putting away their toys) are described fondly. The descriptions help me imagine the scene in my mind, and the image of the birds makes me smile!

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