Walk the dog

Yesterday I fumed so, enough to pop an artery. Thinking it gone I marched off into the day with many a visit and encounter. Alas, the same red fury stormed into my heart and lungs and had to be leashed each time it jumped for a bite. This dog called anger caged and snarling with saliva stained fangs and throaty growl is chained behind civility and decorum. It runs the hardened fence path to and fro looking for a gap, a hole to escape. Oh how I pity the stranger and those unaware of it fury. The beast is taught its tricks from long ago lessons, its an old dog with little penchant for learning. I wonder how those yellow stained eyes might soften if gently spoken, kindly stroked and a bone thrown for easy distraction. Today, the night has passed and the pillow has spoken. I push the dog away as it licks my face and barks for my attention. Another day, another chance at playing fetch and walking in the park.