Best Poem of R. G. Bell

Sam's God
Sam’s god

My dog sees me as if he sees a god.
By miracle appear his daily meats.
From tap on high is water bowl refilled.
His fleas are killed, and now and then come treats.

His god decides when lights go off or on.
His paws can’t open doors. Thank god I do!
From me he gets both praise and jus . . .
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Home lies that way, somewhere, through the fog,
Down a road I did not ask to be set upon
And most of whose forks were chosen for me
By others no less road-bound than I,
Who find their journey no more worthwhile.

I carry too much baggage, but search for more,
Wish for great tasks while failing small . . .
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