The dinghy always tied

to its mother boat tugs

to follow its own path;

a German shepherd

pulls its leash to sniff that bush

where a cat slept last night.

“Could be still around!

Where? Where is it?

Could be a fun chase!”

Jerked back from wandering

to toe the line with preceding wake.

“Look! Look! Another dinghy.

Wanna play? Huh? Huh?”

as each dinghy drifts

toward each other, close

enough to smell the other’s scent

then hauled back in line,

towed to a destination not its own

until every end-of-the-rope wandering

frays the final strand,

and the dinghy floats free.

Steadfast between mother boat’s

wake and river current

but the dinghy quickly decides,

“What’s over there!”

It runs with the current

like a German shepherd

smells the cat on the wind.