If you want to know about my adventure in the park today, skip past the poem and hear all about a squeaking dog. If not, read this poem and then hear all about a squeaking dog.
Water before they wilt,
Hope the sun doesn’t run out of breath.
Wrap your love around their shoulders,
Care before you forget.
Pray for the rain,
Keep dancing out of the shadows.
Give until you feel given to,
Fill until no longer hollow.
Watch them bloom,
See their petals take to the sky.
Sit back and rest, take it all in,
Before life passes you by.
This afternoon I ate soup at the park and it was cloudy and chilly – the sky, not the soup. I say chilly and not cold, because if it was cold today, before winter, then next month is going to be antarctic.
I ate my soup and watched people walk past, and there was a man walking a dog and I thought the dog had issues but turns out it was the man’s shoes that were squeaking and not the dog. So the dog is perfectly fine. I guess.
After the park, I came home to find a parcel waiting for me, with two books I’d ordered online. One of them is Haruki Murakami’s ‘What I Talk About When I Talk About Running’, which I’ve been wanting to read for a while. It’s a writer’s memoir about running and how running has affected his writing. Groovy!