Monday, December 20, 2010


The air is brisk. It is dark and cold outside.
Bundled in coat and hoodie,
I walk my dog, a daily routine.
Today he meets the older female
The two of them have played before.
Her master is further along the trail
That runs by the rushing stream
Where signs say that salmon spawn.
My dog was delighted the day he rolled in a dead fish.
Today he pounces, lunges, runs in circles.
She is black. He is black and white.
"We're breaking the law," the leather jacketed owner says
When I come up beside him.
"They're supposed to be on leash.
That makes us criminals."
The dogs cavort ahead of us.
"She's sometimes so happy playing with other dogs
She gets so tired, she pees herself."
I can see his breath as he talks.
"My dog just loves to play." I respond
It's early for eloquence.
Then I catch my dog
Put him on the leash and head back
In the other direction,
Away from fun and walk and river
Towards the city, traffic and work,
People bustling with intent.
But not so much fun,
Not so I'd pee myself.
But some fun, and friends and purpose.
The sky is lightening,
The day has just begun.
Miracles await.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

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