Beautiful Girl

Walking up the hill, I suddenly feel very odd.
Investigation of states: what is this?

Ahead, a beautiful big dog is standing on the corner, all by himself.
He is striking a pose reminiscent of an old hunting print.

Several feet away, a beautiful young woman is absorbed
in vomiting green bile.
It is ten o'clock in the morning. And this is her dog.

Originally uploaded by mrjoro.

I ignore her.

Waiting for the light to change.
Who am I? Do I want to say I passed this person by?

I turn around and go to her.
Would she like to be left alone? Would she like some help?

She is fine--fine. Her shirt has shirring at the shoulder; her makeup is tasteful.

Does she know what is happening, and why?

She does. Scared eyes.

Her dignity is the casualty here.
I tell her I had a similar thing happen recently.

I walk away with a very simple, sad feeling trilling in my heart.
I had been wondering what compassion is--how does it differ from lovingkindness, say?
THIS IS IT.

I must have bent to talk to her.
I can feel the imprint of the dog's wet nose on my chin.

Now I realize: had been looking for help for her.
And although I was too absorbed in her to notice, he had thanked me.

What noble animals we are, in spite of our confusion.

There's nothing left to do now. Just to feel.

Originally uploaded by Wyrd.

Photos gratefully borrowed from flickr folk mrjoro and Wyrd.