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There's that bloody dog again,
ears akimbo, happy tail,
poised to chase the stone he's throwing
in the river - never fails.

Time and time again it happens;
in he goes with eager bark
for a stone that's hit the bottom
long before he's left the mark.

Swimming through concentric circles,
for a moment he's perplexed;
then he swims back, looking, hoping,
for the next stone, and the next.

Stupid dog! You'd think he'd rumble.
Look away. Walk on alone.
Turn to hopes of latest lover -
sinking like another stone.