Julian O’Dea put this on facebook. Holiday is over as of tomorrow. The poems of the day will not be dated: WordPress can keep them apart automatically.

I know that my dog was
naturally happy then,
when she slipped away
that time and became
aquatic for an hour.

I circled the large pond
(or small lake) with my son
but it was useless to yell.
She was in another world,
chasing waterfowl.

All I could do was stare
and hope and wait like a
patient hunter/gatherer.
(Perhaps she felt she
was getting us dinner.)

The law seemed gone,
and we become primaeval.
A dog. A boy. A man.
And the kangaroos near
the water. Elemental.
Instinctive. For a while.

How many times do you
get off the leash in life?
How many hours over
the long years?
Have you thought of that?
When she came back,
luckily without a duck,
I gave her a rough pat.