Monks should Walk Her - Dec. 13, 2024

walking my 16-year-old dog

is like putting a leash on a slow-

moving cloud or gentle breeze

that stops at every tree and bush

or a contemplation of pebbles

in a sidewalk

perhaps I could try that

give fifty minutes away make

Gracie’s tail my walking mantra

and meditate on a crooked pendulum

that measures nothing

except it’s been so long since

I’ve worked at those speeds

and there’s no rushing her

those brakes work very well

four legs splayed in defiance

her steps are measured

irrelevant of time traveling

that hundred-yard square

stands between her and a nap

time does not rush the old

and yet come time for breakfast

I see this white blur streak by

as I head to the kitchen

evidently

some windable clocks

sport a backup battery