Twofold Pack

The day is spent, who knows how well,

Hours chased by boot and tail

Have dropped me here next to you,

Empty as an upset pail.

Let’s we sit and listen low

To mayhap hear the falling snow

Sleep the forest, that unruly child,

Your brother and your beau.

For be you flying through the rye

Or as now tethered to my thigh,

I see that native love provoked,

I see it dark your watchful eye.

So when you fix to ramble back,

Remember me, your ol’ boy Jack,

Cus’ I sure will remember you,

The pride of our twofold pack.


To Scrubs

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