Rufus

grassymeadow

It was a lovely morning for walking,
greener meadows than August’s usual fare,
yet all along the path near the wooded groves
fallen leaves padded my steps with autumn flare.

The fresh mowed grass along the trail’s edge
was fragrant green instead of heat worn brown.
Rounding each corner the breeze swirled refreshingly
around my moistened pores and cooled me down.

A reddish-brown lab with friendly gait approached my side
bounding from his owner’s distracted pace,
and nuzzled up against my leg in greeting
then sprang to a run, disappearing without a trace.

Around another bend I heard his master’s call.
“Jack” the dog was not within our sight.
Then far across the high meadow grass his head bobbed,
up and down with wagging tail, eyes beaming bright.

I called him Rufus, though his owner calls him Jack,
and I made a mental note of his freedom fun.
On my next lap past the flowing meadow grass
I could see the beat down path where he had run.

I imagined I was a child again with agile stride
making roads by running through the grasses, tall,
and for a moment the unblemished wonder resurfaced
and the joy remained, for I am a child of the Creator after all!

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About found4sure

I like to write. I think too much!
This entry was posted in Aging, Dogs, Health, Life and Times, love, Mental Health, Nature, People, Poetry, spirituality, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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