I didn’t think about the mountain lions.
It was just me and the dog and the music
of cars driving along the highway below,
one lone sea lion barking plaintively
out on a buoy
and a thudding heartbeat in my ear.
Begin to feel like you’ve got this place to yourself—
just you and your dog in the hills above the highway above the lonely sea lion—
but something gnaws at you;
a teeny six-legged critter attaches itself to you
and you remember you are not alone with your dog
jogging along motorbike grooves. No.
You are someplace wild—
that place just beyond your own backyard
where the ticks and mountain lions roam.
I didn’t think about the mountain lions though.
It was just me and the dog and the music of cars zooming by,
one lone yelping sea lion
and a heartbeat thrumming me along.
We were running a course of motorbike grooves—
unaware of their presence or absence.