Deep- ish

The grass is wet but it is only my deep feet that
make me aware of my hands with no pockets. 
The grass made way for footprints running,
towards a lady who was dog walking, looking.
 
My first glancing chance makes no pass for two hands,
as her dog takes quantum physics to wander if it knows me. 
After all I am to  a dog, a man, looking down at the mouth for a comment. 
I remind the dog that I know she is a nice lady, looking up , I value my freedom.
 
I thought about the tides reach and the neurones  breaking the current.
My river is lying down at tea time,  thinking of the sea side. 
I saw her occupation in the creases of my stomach , I cannot force the smile
it foils me , catching a few fish that are padlocked in a tower on the river bed.
 
Is her lunch cold , in her spiderman lunchbox, her flask taller than her shiftwork?
Where is he now? my dad is a widower , he found a quiet bush that was already damp.
She was friendly, she knew where the dogs were , I never know what a dog is looking for.

Tags: Deep, Abstract, Imagery,