The Brauv

He’s a little fur ball of wheezing love sounds
littered across any playing field, eyes wide,
neck bulging, the Brauv is pure emotion
silently pleading for another day of breath

He is so small, this little fur ball of hacking
discomfort traveling forth with only four ounces
of life; clinging to that, actually, this little fur ball
of pure joy: Give me a kiss, you say, he does

and can it be so close to heaven when his
little tongue graces your lips with seamless
contentment and joy of eyes wide up no
longing, no punishment, no agenda

he is pure, this Brauv, and we should all
be so lucky for just a moment of his
immortality, regardless of the pain,
anxiety or confusion for he is The Brauv


About stevewhitmore

Former award-winning newspaperman and broadcast journalist, both radio and TV, spanning three decades. Army-trained paralegal, court bailiff and prosecutor's lead investigator for the 8th Infantry Division's Judge Advocate General's Corp., Mainz, Germany. 1973-1975.
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