Thanks to Harry for permission to publish his poem (Shilo is his dog)
We were a happy trio,
me, Mum and leggy Shilo
arm -in -arm -off -lead
listening to
booming.
Cold air, wind rushing through me ~
every time we found
orange and white
we lurched forward
to find the
next.
We burst back. Shilo slips,
falls ten feet into the river,
is dragged, heaved,
tossed and turned
by the rushing
rapids.
I live in shocked suspense ‘til I see
him hobbling, disorientated but
trying to get back
to his familiar
orienteering
stance.
One hundred and ninety seven minutes.
How can I describe them?
Top of the world
Exhaustion
Experience
The end
November 2009
