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Morning Walk
(Triple Cinquain)
On the
silent, wooded
paths, she hurries ahead,
waiting for my hand signal at
the forks.
If she
grows impatient,
she'll sometimes choose her own
way. One whistle from me brings her
frisking.
I smile
at my smart dog
and our quiet 'speech,' as
pleasing as this morning walk in
still woods.
(Triple Cinquain)
On the
silent, wooded
paths, she hurries ahead,
waiting for my hand signal at
the forks.
If she
grows impatient,
she'll sometimes choose her own
way. One whistle from me brings her
frisking.
I smile
at my smart dog
and our quiet 'speech,' as
pleasing as this morning walk in
still woods.