A Walk on Gwithian Dunes

At the start
I wrap in copious layers,
A vest,
Shirt.
Jumper and coat
Scarf round my neck
And woolly hat on my head.
Rosie has her golden fur.

As we set off across the dunes
The wind whips viciously
At all parts of my protective gear.
I shiver, and press on.
Rosie leaps in unaffected abandon.
She greets her pals,
Chases rabbits and birds.

I dig hands deeper into my pockets.
As we press on
I flap my arms
I throw the ball
I run down hills
I watch the sea.

It’s time to turn back.
I now have an extra layer
Called ‘sweat’.
The hat is off,
The scarf undone,
The coat flaps open to the wind.

Rosie stares at me,
Her long pink tongue flicking
As she pants heavily.
“You’re OK,”
She seems to say.
“I’m stuck with all this fur!”
I race her back to the salt-sprayed car
Where we flop
Disreputably.