Every morning she walks her dog along the beach
Alone with her thoughts
She knows what size of stick to scavenge
For the dog to retrieve
It’s become a formal ritual for them
She chooses the stick
Pretends she doesn’t like it at all
Throws it as far away as she can
The dog explodes with purpose
To get the stick and to return it
Each time she throws the stick
She releases a little tension
Gives away a worry or a fear
The dog retrieves the stick but not the worry
That’s part of the ritual
The absolution of innocence
Washes her troubles away
David Trudel © 2013
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