Dog

 

A long way off, across the open strand;

small, minute even, a couple walking a dog.

Picturesque and sweet somehow, their 

silhouettes across the deserted expanse of sand.

And as we stand there looking, the dog starts

to run in our direction. Tiny at first but building

into a shape we recognize, a pit bull coming

arrow-straight to us. 

She sees it early, recognizes the breed, 

knows it’s coming, crossing that quarter of a mile 

directly for her and she is petrified. And it does, 

and is now jumping at her, now a frozen stump. 

The dog persists, not aggressive but it is

a pit bull and she is terror-stricken. 

Across the strand, a quarter of a mile off,

 the couple watch their 'puppy', 

miniaturised to cuteness with distance, 

playing with strangers. And perhaps too, maybe,

 just maybe, one of them is nonchalantly running 

the dog's lead through a half-closed hand.