A poem that catches the joy of a sunny Sunday morning .

The Dogs at Live Oak Beach , Santa Cruz

As if there could be a world

Of absolute innocence

In which we forget ourselves

The owners throw sticks

And half-bald tennis balls

Toward the surf

And the happy dogs leap after them

As if catapulted -

Black dogs, tan dogs ,

Tubes of glorious muscle -

Pursuing pleasure

More than obedience

They race , skid to a halt in the sand ,

Sometimes they'll plunge straight into

The foaming breakers

Like diving birds , letting the green turbluence

Toss them , until they snap and sink

Teeth into floating wood

Then bound back to their owners

Shining wet , with passionate speed

For nothing ,

For absolutely nothing but joy .

By Alicia Ostriker.