Fetch

My life is the dog who

wanders in at the end of Summer.

Smelling of Fir trees, high clouds, and spearmint.

Oh look, it’s the dog, say the owners,

stay off the furniture.

Obedience school was on a hill

it took so long,

besides, there was sun

and dragon fly wings.

He turns in circles

 before lying down.

No-one knows why.

Perhaps it’s perspective.