He doesn't chase the wind the way he used to. He watches it now, like an old friend passing by. The gray around his muzzle didn't arrive overnight. It came one season at a time, alongside every adventure, every muddy trail, every stick he proudly carried home as though he had discovered treasure. His steps are slower now. The stairs ask a little more of him. Cold mornings settle into his bones. He sleeps longer, dreaming, I hope, of fields where his legs were young and every sunrise promised another adventure. Yet when I reach for my keys, his eyes still shine. Not because he wants the longest walk just because he wants to be with me. That's the beautiful thing about old dogs. They stop counting miles. They only count moments. A quiet afternoon beside your chair. A gentle hand resting on their head. The sound of your voice saying their name as if it has always been the most important word in the world. One day, I'll notice he doesn't hear me call. His leash will hang by the door, his bowl will sit untouched, and the house will somehow become far too quiet. But love like his doesn't leave with the footsteps. It settles into the floorboards, waits by every doorway, rides beside me in an empty passenger seat, and reminds me that the greatest hearts sometimes beat beneath four paws. Growing old is never easy. Not for us. Not for them. But if love leaves silver around a muzzle, then he has earned every single white hair. And I would choose every one of them again.

„You have A girlfriend? So you’re a Lesbian?“ And then They look at me Like I’m crazy When I say that I’m not. Apparently, There’s only Lesbian, Gay, And straight. Bisexuality is a thing, Yes, But it’s ‚Only a phase’. They don’t know How it feels To finally find A label You feel Comfortable Using. And I know It’s hard to Understand That the label I’m using Is the one For not wanting A label Like lesbian Or bisexual. I just Don’t want to Define that Right now. Maybe it’ll change Over time. Maybe I’m a lesbian And just don’t know That yet. Maybe I’ll keep The label I have Right now Because no one else Needs to understand, Just me. It’s my business, Not theirs. If they have A problem With me Using a label For not wanting Any other label, They can Fuck off.

Mother I’m braided out, faded out From your emotional distention I turn to my empty corner, it’s just me And my former skeleton, the ash Tired of clawing for your attention Meanwhile you parade so proudly your Perfect Person sash And indeed I acknowledge my imperfections But having come straight from your body, I expected more than this half assed connection Truthfully I’ve already lit the match, so We are complete And I have locked the fucking latch Copyright ©️ Kimberly Virga 2026

We all have choices in our lives Some made are wrong, some made are right Wrong choices are what’s testing fate Wrong choices are mistakes you make Mistakes were made - it’s not too late To learn your lesson, make a change Change is tough - think of what you done Life’s lessons aren’t there to be fun Some make mistakes repeatedly; Time to wake up, you need to see The damage caused, destruction made Tomorrow brings a brand new day With the right choice, think how you’ll feel Cards laid out show a better deal You can move forward, head held high At least this time you’ll know you tried Karen L Hamilton

This is my two year old Frenchie, Archibald Roderick, named after Roderick in Edgar Allan Poe’s Fall of the House of Usher Just to make you smile 😃