I’m a dalmatian in the park this morning
leaping with a grace I can feel
a toddler by midday, splashing
unashamedly into gleeful puddles
red wellies into small pools of sky
a bird by the afternoon
giving the impression I may take flight
as I perch wise on the wall and
stretch my feathers
watching you
a fish by the time the evening is here
paper-light and shining
pretending I am not gasping for air
but I’m gasping
because I know night is coming
And the pretence
Should really be over in time for bed.
Jan 8, 2022
Jan 8, 2022 at 5:09 AM UTC
I’m a dalmatian in the park this morning
leaping with a grace I can feel
a toddler by midday, splashing
unashamedly into gleeful puddles
red wellies into small pools of sky
a bird by the afternoon
giving the impression I may take flight
as I perch wise on the wall and
stretch my feathers
watching you
a fish by the time the evening is here
paper-light and shining
pretending I am not gasping for air
but I’m gasping
because I know night is coming
And the pretence
Should really be over in time for bed.
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