Saturday, 13 April 2013

The Dog-watching bench - Day 13 a walk in Chorlton Ees

The Dog-watching bench

Seven paths meet here.

I approach from Monday
where the river's progress
is unimpeded,
lower than the flood-tides
of February,
the fear levels
still marked high on the banks.

Tuesday offers a tall building
and wide wild fields
unknown to me.

Wednesday holds the meadows
we ran Jasper in,
tentatively unmuzzled,
here, he could bite the ball.
I hope he relished
this fleeting freedom.

Frank kicked a ball down Thursday
before he could even walk,
standing well and keen to imitate us.

Friday leads to the shorter block,
where I found art in trees,
magical to me then,
still so now,
but not as suprising,
now I know Chorlton.

Saturday takes me homeward
to the support of tarmac
under feet that crave
gravel, soil, grass.
They will return soon.

Sunday, the bridge across the river
to cars that are not mine
and the nursery
Frank will be too small for
when he starts in September.

Hmm! Notes typed up better than I thought, but still notes I reckon.

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