Max's Morning Walk Poem by Linda Yates

Bouncing and pouncing -- jump to and fro --
Straining at leash and so eager to go!
Racing at first down the shady, damp street.
Straining to keep up with fast-flying feet,

the feathery brush of a delicate breeze
On my face, and the greenness of ancient oak trees,
Stopping here, stopping there, where others have been,
Walking now quick, darting out, darting in,

Pausing to leave his unique "calling card,"
Alert for all others, always on guard.
Slowing now, sniffing the morning's sweet scent,
Strolling, now prancing, with head smartly bent,

Returning more calmly to welcoming door
Settling by master's chair, happy once more.