We took Charlie for a
hike in the woods.
The trail was well-marked
so we let him off his leash.
There was no one around
to talk us out of it...
It all went well until
halfway through when
Charlie suddenly
diasppeared.
We whistled and called,
whistled and called,
always fearing the worst.
He was found a short time
later, in the company of
an aging hippie couple and
their children- he was smoking a
long cigarette in a plastic holder,
listening to the Grateful Dead,
possibly smelling faintly of
marijuana.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem