Cape Cod Morning Poem by B. V. Dahlen

Are you out there
pacing the beach
with Miles,
kicking the drifted wood
and shells
half buried along your path
with spiteful vigor
because we fought,
and flinging them long into the surf
where Miles, with ardent abandon
Pursues them doggedly?
What angry purpose
propels you down the strand,
your footfalls quick and unrelenting?
I wait for you to reappear,
and hope to see your
easygoing stride,
unfurrowed brow
and puckered lips
long before your whistled cheer
reaches my anxious ears.