in the morning, they hear me call to Bella
repeatedly.
she takes her time to emerge from the shadows of
the forest, licking her chops, wagging her tail.
I see a head pop out of a sleeping bag and look
my way.
he's probably thinking my dog is not well trained.
I'm thinking about the illegal camping
and pondering whether to feel sympathetic
or annoyed
when are the Rainbow People coming
the man sleeping in the bushes on the other
side of the trail is alone, I wonder that
he does not slip down the hillside
we dog walkers are up early,
Bella, Yaga and her pup, Frieda
and Sally, the golden retriever who always
has a ball in her mouth.
who are these people camping out
are they just like you and me
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