An August Afternoon

Sunglasses and sun cream,
Cork is basking in a couple of days
Of unexpected heat. I walk our
“borrowed” dog, soaking up the sun.

A tug on the lead. My block of rich chocolate brown has
Spied some milk chocolate and drops his nose to scent.
Far at the end of the bushes sit and sunbathe three
chocolate truffles tipped with a dollop of whipped cream.

Such unruffled leporine, they sit and macerate a buttercup,
observing the quivering slab of muscle, only feet away. No alarm, why hurry
dinner? They nick the cups of yellow, flick a look at us and
then, leisurely bound off. One final leap, gone under a fragrant rosehip bush.

– It rains.