there was a dog slaved to a post, barking at me two-hundred yards away

With a hole in my hand, i try to hold yours
but it is like a hand grasping sand
the way i believe you'll understand.
There's a whole best-friend species broken as we achieve over the land
but our kin's left under us
no longer able to understand.
And so i try not to understand
because it's though redemption is a line
now just a dot down the incline;
a speck of sand that falls through the hole
in my hand.