turtle dog


Oblivious to my furtive task,
she rests beside the reedy edge
by command, that I might crawl
bellyward to rounded stone

of sunning turtle not 8 feet out
eyeing me with sunbaked ease.
I work the angles, opportunely
capture each with view and click

finding him amenable. Mindful
that I’m lurking here, take pains
to offer gratitude, and promise
to keep my pup from him.

Yet once we’ve moved beyond the pond
my dog elects to circle back, sniff
with nose raised in a stance
I recognize. I brace myself

to lunge, retrieve; as she pulls
back, reconsiders,
opts instead for courtesy
at chordata’s hospitality.