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248: Live From The Furbo

Every night we sit on the couch.

Your arm around my shoulders,

my knees pulled towards my chest.

We eat dinner.

We talk about the day.

The dog sleeps, belly up

nestled on top of our sock feet.

And every night

without fail,

the Furbo,

that imperfect dog camera,

pings your phone with a “barking alert.”

Only it’s never the sleeping dog

at our feet,

It’s always me!

Always laughing too loud.

And I’m grateful

for that broken piece of technology,

because what a lovely thing for someone to say

You’re laughing!

You’re laughing again!

Oh, How lovely,

you’re laughing.

Written by Sarah A. Speed // Writing the Good

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I'm Sarah (Are) Speed, the writer behind Writing The Good. I'm so honored you're here! To get more poems, follow @writingthegood on Facebook and Instagram! 

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