Desecration

Rump astride a log beside
a fallen tree given up
a hole for a walking path.

Your brother, playing, dancing
on the log - balanced by his father -
says, "Doggie!" and laughs as
paws leap up, trying to join
him on the tree.

You twist the console under sunlight
trying to see a better game.
The dog stops beside you,
panting breath in your face,
curious. You do not notice,
not the dog, nor the world;
and your high score only
a wasted day of moments.