Afternoon Poem by David Wood

You've had lunch at one O'clock
You've sat for an hour daydreaming
And now you are out for the afternoon stroll

There is no finer time of day, you've chucked
Off the cold morning, standing under the shower,
Feeding the dog and breakfast ending with dirty
Dishes in the sink waiting patiently

The afternoon walk with the dog around the park
Nodding occasionally to other dog owners, the
Sun high in the sky radiating warmth, mad cyclist
Racing by, joggers looking pained

Still a spring in your step as you walk up the garden
Path, the soft squeak of a rusty gate the dog panting
Gently by your side and finally home to a digestive
Biscuit dunked in a mug of black coffee

Yet to come is night's mischievous dark blanket. That
Cunning little devil where dark deeds are caped in
Their secret blackness of latent intent