Walking Bandit.

A haibun.

At three pm Bandit yips to remind me it's walk time. We careen the first block, I free wheel on my gopher, using one dog power. We slow to a canter past squatter pigeons settled like smooth stones on the grass. Geese hiss as we pass, geeking their necks and flapping wings. In the long grass near the water tanks a gray kangaroo stretches and scratches his belly in the sun, limpid eyes watching us as we turn towards home through a flock of fearless Happy Jacks.

Deep shadows lengthen,
warm winter sun sinks lower.

Brisk breezes herald night.