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Wright Russell
I have a black lab named Skippy. He's eight years old, and I got him for my sixth birthday, as a birthday present from my mom. So this poem is basically about taking a walk with him at a local stream, and throwing a stick into the water for him, and how he goes out for the stick, and how he's so into the moment, and how everything around him doesn't matter, all that matters is that he's going for that stick.

It's exhilarating to watch. All he cares about in that instant is that stick in the air, and everything about him, everything he's doing, is for that stick. It's just really captivating. You can just breathe time, and you see him, every muscle in his body, going for that stick.

His brain targets it
His body casts out for it
His mouth catches it

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