The dog wanders on the road to my neighborhood
about where fields give way to another subdivision.
All I know at first is the cars are moving strangely
my reptile brain detects a pattern problem.
This dog seems particularly clueless about cars
on a level with deer that run to the headlights.
I hope it doesn’t get hit and I worry about my paint,
irrationally viewing it as someone come
to take up a collection, or a canine carjacker.
Too late to easily stop and let them know,
I spot the couple which might just be out for a walk
or might be searching for a dog. I convince myself
they’re a coincidence until one points half-heartedly
at the way I’ve come from, too far back for them
to have seen.
I wrestle with my conscience; someone else will tell them,
or maybe not, I tell myself as I drive to find a place to turn around.
By the time I see them again someone has,
and they are winding through yards,
back on the trail.