Postcard #1

I lost the dog again,

in the field where I always lose the dog.

Bright yellow plastic, I see

her three-metre lead

disappear into ditch water thicket

and for a while this is all I think of.

The urgency to find her

is mostly for discipline's sake,

there are no roads nearby

besides the M40 that panics constantly

on stilts in the middle distance.

It's only the day-glo that keeps her

from joining the ecosystem

of green and brown forever.

Living the ditch life I know

she dreams of when croissanted

on a lap at night.

I call her name again.

Wet-socked, stepping lazily,

wearing the tweed sky like a holiday.