From the day it comes home, a tragic seed is sown
A dog’s life is but a fleeting wisp in our long, long life.
On a quiet, unremarkable afternoon, I will hear that he is gone.
And just like that, his little life will be done.
When I return to my hometown, he may have turned into a single foxtail grass by the country road.
Swaying and swaying, as if still wagging his tail for whoever passes by.
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