Darling Dog

Darling Dog.

I just sit here on the rock while you run in circles like horses racing
round and round the ivy and oaks
crossing the footbridge and turning on your tiny little heels
thrashing across the footpaths that are slowly fading into brush.

I laugh, and laugh, and watch.

From my shaded seat I muse that,
the present moment is always the most beautiful.
Not always.
Just now.

Yesterday we walked a distance on the green way.
I thought we’d walk maybe half a mile and turn around.
But it was so beautiful.
Capture, capture, capture,
was all I had in my mind.

I walked. And walked. And walked on.

The honey suckles’ scent I went through in clouds.
The creek sometimes calm or rushing over rocks.
The occasional ding ding of a bike behind me.
I didn’t want to leave, could not leave, this feeling.

Just to where the bridge cuts through rocks.
Just beyond to where the way crosses high above the creek.
Just to the boulder fishing spot hanging over the water.
I turned round at the sound of cars.

My puppy so tired, we’ll walk back quickly.

Capture, capture, capture,
RINGING in my ears.
I could paint this, you know.
I took so many pictures my phone was dead by the time we got back to the car.

I really think I was satisfied, you know.
We walked for nearly two hours, counting the numerous pit stops for takes.
It just doesn’t happen all that often —
That feeling of complete freedom, of no worries, of total, uncompromisable