The Divine Old Dog is alert,

her heart is dancing,

she smells a rabbit, then hears

him rushing madly through the brush,

her legs are sore, her nose is strong,

she is on her feet, gliding quietly

through the brush, circling around,

her eyes gleaming, legs flying out from under,

into the chase, the Divine Old Dog

is full of tricks, she circles far to the left,

through the brush, into the meadow,

around the trees, splashes through the

muddy creek, closer and closer,

then around from the other side,

the rabbit has only one trick,

he runs and runs,

until he is nose-to-nose with the

Divine Old Dog,

alive with joy and purpose,

the rabbit freezes, surrenders to

the eternal fate of rabbits,

pursued by savvy dogs.

The log in the fireplace pops,

the Divine Old Dog awakens,

looks around for her rabbit, is confused,

feels the warm fire on her sore legs,

stretches and sighs. She loves her

videos, they fill her lungs with

the breath of life,

her head with purpose.