Morning Walk

 We left early

For our walk
My dog and I, following her nose
Through the last of the hay
Spun to gold by the rising sun.
Headed down toward the river
Where the water makes music
Running over limestone rocks.
Rocks that hold prints
Of lives lived long, long ago.
Trails up the hill, into the woods
Tell tales of comings and going.
Voices whisper through the trees
Rushing off on the breeze.
We’ve come a long way,
My dog and I.
But I know where I am.
I’m lost in my imagination
Following my dog’s nose.

Julie Creighton, yourdailypoem.com, January 19, 2021