Every dog wants to get off that leash. Kiko knows we go there

as soon as we turn on to No 2 Road.

The Dogs at Live Oak Beach

As if there could be a world

Of absolute innocence

The owners throw sticks

And half-bald tennis balls

Toward the surf

And the happy dogs leap after them

As if catapulted—

In which we forget ourselves

Black dogs, tan dogs,

Tubes of glorious muscle—

Pursuing pleasure

More than obedience

They race, skid to a halt in the wet sand,

Sometimes they'll plunge straight into

The foaming breakers

Like diving birds, letting the green turbulence

Toss them, until they snap and sink

Teeth into floating wood

Then bound back to their owners

Shining wet, with passionate speed

For nothing,

For absolutely nothing but joy.