The Dog Park Poem by Jon Yttri

The hot, steamy day, almost a fire.
Like outdoor sauna where you wear street attire.
Grass painted by artist out of green ink.
Marsh all soggy, like a kitchen sink.
Few appear, fewer stay long.
All anticipate summer's swansong.
The dogs are happy, the humans obliging.
They chase balls at once, almost colliding.
Some dogs look like none can run faster.
Some are bigger that their masters.
My friend and I with her golden canine.
I throw the ball near the shoreline.
The dog is named Belle, as in southern.
Bought for so little for what gave in return.
Belle enters water solo.
She plays water polo.
She leaves the water, she shakes off the wet.
After an hour, it's time to quit.