Waterlogged

Sticks are too small to waste her time with
Only branches will do
I break a nice big one down to 5 feet
 we walk down to the stream
We could go on and on
 forever casting and fetching
I throw it out beyond the bend
 she stops as she approaches it
 her face all perplexity
 and looks into the water just under her
With a strange backward digging effort
 she thrashes
 dives her head into the water
 and exhumes a waterlogged 12–foot branch
With glee, she trots back with it
Sometimes, she’ll voraciously
 chew up an over–sized log dredged from the depths
 biting away in continuous joy and concentrated angst
 with the occasional bit of wood wedged in her teeth
 Sometimes, she’ll disintegrate the whole thing to shreds
This time, we cast and fetch
 over and over
 a rainbow in each splash
Too big for us to carry away in comfort

Jupiter and Io

Not everyone needs
 to be overwhelmed
 by thunder and lightening
Something tender
  and familiar
 strong but approachable
We wink at one another
and smile at how crafty
 such a powerful being in love is
Considerate, rather

Distance to Water

Luria Park, I knew since my youth
 On a field trip there, I found an ant creature
 Upon magnifying the water in a microscope
It was there I learned that Lexi loved the water
 and was afraid to swim
And walking back from there with her
 We bumped into and a cousin of Lexi’s, Nico
 and his kind owner Jim
 who suggested the path to the nearby lake
 where we’d later teach her to swim
Then there are the two parks nearby
 which Evi and Anyu once graced
 which I go to for a change of pace
Lexie even discovered the dog park
  by her own intuitive pulling one day
And my brother suggested the nearby nature center
 which offered its own mystical stream
 journey under the beltway
And that bike ride down Camelot which
 revealed the trail with a new, wide stream
 that I have yet to take her to
And for all this wonder,
 she just wants to be fetching in the water