I talk to him when I'm lonesome like; and I'm sure he understands.
When he looks at me so attentively, and gently licks my hands;
Then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes, but I never say naught thereat.
For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes, but never a friend like that.
~W. DAYTON WEDGEFARTH
Wicket © 2012 Karen Mathison Schmidt
16 x 20 inches • oil on deep cradled GessobordTM
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