another mindfulness lesson from the dog

I walk across the morning grass
dew-wet green
to untangle your long leash
Again
leash you thread around tree trunks
at the lawn’s edge
over and over, every morning
every evening.
Once you’ve knotted it thoroughly
you sit beneath the tree you’ve anchored to
with no idea how the rope got so short.
Sometimes you bark to get my attention then.
But mostly you wait,
look up at the leaves and squirrels
and irritated blue jays until
I stop reading or talking, weeding or writing or daydreaming
and notice you’re stuck
and come to you
across the wet grass to unknot your rope.
Even then, unless I take your collar and guide you
you do not always notice
at least not right away
that you’re set free,
unknotted, untangled,
with room again to move