Today I saw a dog--a boxer, I think,
wearing a hot pink tutu,
tulle swishing
as she trotted down the street alongside her
owner’s motorized cart.

sometimes delight comes easy,
around the corner like a
dog in a pink tutu.

Sometimes, though, it’s a slow climb,
slogging through,
boots sucking mud,
over rocks,
to find, suddenly,


In the climb,
and the mud,
and the rocks.

In the river’s purr
and the clear blue of sky
through bare winter branches.