Mouseprints in the Sand

Publisher Marketing: Collection of poetry and one short story. From Mouseprints... A Lamb There are days I feel like a lamb, and I wish I could eat grass, frolic on the stones and forget; well, everything. ... Island of Joy (excerpt) Walking through a field Tom picks up a stick. He drops it at my feet and waits excitedly until I pick it up and toss it with all my strength. He speeds off with a jump and winds his way through the field. His wagging tail peeps from the long grass like a periscope. Soon it is returning, and I run from him. He chases me, dropping the stick so he can bark. He nips at my hands. Dashing sideways between two trees I lose him momentarily and tackle him unforeseen. We wrestle. His teeth bite gently on my hands and arms. I roll him on his back. When he pops up he sprints off. It is now my turn to chase. I dive and tackle him to the ground. As I lie on my back and stare at the sky he licks my face. I push him away, and he barks. A light breeze rustles the grass. The stalks bend and tickle my side. I spring to my feet. "Come on boy." I say, and we run toward the house. It is a few miles yet, but my legs feel fresh. Tom, a foxhound, could run all day. He bays now as he picks up a scent. I run on. He is gone for awhile, but in the last woods before the house he is at my side.