The dinghy always tied
to its mother boat tugs
to follow its own path;
a German shepherd
pulls its leash to sniff that bush
where a cat slept last night.
“Could be still around!
Where? Where is it?
Could be a fun chase!”
Jerked back from wandering
to toe the line with preceding wake.
“Look! Look! Another dinghy.
Wanna play? Huh? Huh?”
as each dinghy drifts
toward each other, close
enough to smell the other’s scent
then hauled back in line,
towed to a destination not its own
until every end-of-the-rope wandering
frays the final strand,
and the dinghy floats free.
Steadfast between mother boat’s
wake and river current
but the dinghy quickly decides,
“What’s over there!”
It runs with the current
like a German shepherd
smells the cat on the wind.