Run Like a Dog

Photo by Pedro Moura Pinheiro.

Photo by Pedro Moura Pinheiro.


What I wish is
to run like this,
like him, full-bore,
with abandon,
run and run and run, race about,
dart, leap, jump, on a tear, on a spree,
romp, madcap, tumble, and bounce,
ears flapping, if I had dangling ears,
tail swooshing, if I had a swooshy tail, and bound
over tall grass, if I could run on all-fours,
bound through snowy fields, if I could find deep, soft snow,
even crash through crashing salty waves–
and also,
stop, full:
devote fully
–to scent, if had a brilliant nose,
or to stalking a mole,
if I found moles delicious.

Unlike our sedate
human linear increments,
his follow his nose,
take a dog leg,
loop–intention
and abandon
taking turns–track vermin,
snuffle for drops
of sweat, of saliva, of molecules of
other animals that ran
and stopped and shed and
smelled and hunted.

I long for his freedom of frolic,
and his attentiveness, long
to be let off a leash, or at least,
to release the dog
and see him run
because dogs run
in jazz.

Filed under Poetry

Pamela Hobart Carter loves Seattle as much for its water and mountains as for its bustle and creativity. She explores the Emerald City daily while walking her dog. Carter used to be a teacher who wrote on the side. Now she is a writer who teaches on the side.