Too many answers

A pop song my daughter has forced on us plagued the beginning of my walk. After a while, I was able to push it out of my mind, temporarily replaced by lines from Santana. By the end, I managed strains from Concierto de Aranjuez.

I have wasted too much time today arguing. There are so many foolish people with so much anger and energy, they cannot take the time to consider facts or reason or decency. Perhaps one of those fools is me, opening myself up to the droppings of the swine. 
 
Solitude can let in too many voices. I must be careful. Worse than the smug are those that say, "The next clever thing you say will convince them." Worse even are the voices that ask you why you bother and do not wait around for an answer. 
 

big cats
crouch in dried leaves
thinking they are hidden
my dogs know you're there and can smell
your fear

Against grey

Before the storm hit, Tonya and I walked past debris on a fence, past the burned out Roots and Wing Dingers, around the Holliday Inn. We talked of exercise and arguments, the wind and hills against us. Toward the end, I enjoyed a little color against the grey.

damp wind
a thick jacket
nerves lighting up the leg
i'm glad you came along to see
these leaves

Avoiding

Rain fell much of the night and morning. A stomach bug and general malaise collided with my work day, and much time was spent keeping warm. At the cusp between sunset and nightfall I needed outside air.

So Cleo and I explored a few unfamiliar cul de sacs in the complex, she ever patient. We avoided the muddy fields, and most of the puddles, some of the cold.

Then then ankle got sore, and I wondered how I'd play soccer if walking hurt so much now. 

thick grey poles behind
mobile homes holding wires taut
the leash chain tightens
clouds hang over the trailers
the dog and i wince uphill

Sunny Day

We are almost a week into the new year and this afternoon I walked the dogs wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt. I'm sure the cold weather will come, but I hope walking is again a habit before it does.

Saw several dogs on Cleo's part of the journey. One small one got away from a tiny child and came to warn Cleo of his presence. Cleo responded in kind, barking as if the little things was a guest on The O'Reilly Factor.

little barbie dog
do you expect to be fierce
under a car's wheel?

Two dogs were tied up. One was a large animal who barked his warning and went to his sentry post on the porch. The other was a miniscule thing I've seen many times at our complex. It is usually wearing one of those hideous dog outfits and being "walked" by an elderly gentleman who travels only far enough away from his driveway to be certain furry leash ball doesn't pee on his car.

About the time my back and feet were going to protest their poor treatment, we saw my wife returning from her walk to the library. We traded -- Cleo for her bundle of books. And despite the stormy mental morning, the sun managed to shine.

wearying sunshine
the dog argues in silence
i grunt my retorts
until my lover appears
we exchange smiles and burdens

I wonder who is older

After Thor took his colossal dump, something in the grass startled him, and he nearly broke my ankle trying to get away from what I could not see. If I didn't believe in God, I might suspect the universe of conspiring against my efforts to exercise. But Thor is a dog who sniffs where he has just peed in order to see who had recently been there.

Cleo was more gentle, deigning to sit, albeit with a bit of a  whimper, as I tried to snap a picture of the cat she'd wanted to chase yesterday. Hank Jones and Charlie Haden's performance of "Blessed Assurance" was looping in my head as a sweat tried to break through the cold.

hip-sore, i should not
worry about your bowels
as much as my own

Release

I walked this morning to shut the dog up, the dog who whimpered as if her bladder might explode if I wrote or read another word.

But soon I found my back needed the release from the chair and my head needed release from the air in the tiny house. What was to be written needed to bounce around and grow a little inside my mind.

So Cleo and I took to our small circuit and observed a neighbor banging "For Rent" signs into the ground, a small girl too young for school and too old for constant supervision, the cold mailboxes not yet filled, and a Persian cat trying to escape Cleo before the dog even noticed it or the tree it climbed.

When we returned, I noticed Cleo had not her business, so I reminded her. She was content to chew on the clover before going inside.

I left the music
inside our warm, sunless house
to watch you not pee.