Sunday, 27 July 2025

If I didn't have a dog


I probably wouldn't do it either

if I  didn't have a dog.

Instead I'd pump blood and pulse 

to the tune of rock beat

as I circumnavigate the park.


But I do have a dog,

and an ailing one at that,

so I stoop under branch

and trip over log

and taste meadow sweet

and rain in the air 

ponder death as bud turns

 to flower to leaf to fall

pity the wren in the beak 

of the sparrowhawk

and marvel the woodpigeon 

whose notes seem to end

half way through a bar


And yet

If I had no dog 

I too would be replete

with ear buds and smart watch

counting steps, not sheep,

as I circumnavigate the park.




Copyright 2025 Cathy Leonard

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