Patrol Duty

Eyes on the ground,

feet moving quickly, with purpose.

Grass tickles my toes;

a breeze stirs my hair and the scent of summer.

~

The neighbor’s grill hisses —

smoke and spice fill the air,

and my mouth waters.

~

A mower growls down the block,

its roar swallowing the song of birds and cars.

I continue my patrol along the fence line,

alert, steady, focused.

~

Then — a rustle.

Stillness.

Every muscle waiting.

~

A flash of motion — I leap,

but the shadow is faster.

Leaves shiver, a flick of a brown tail disappears up the bush.

~

The stillness returns.

The scent lingers,

taunting, sweet.

~

Somewhere, she calls my name.

I turn toward her,

then back to the bushes.

~

The hunt isn’t over.