I noticed
because they struggle when they walk
and their waists
nearly extend past their ribs,
but I was told
they’re usually fed rice.
Maybe,
to an extent,
that is not ideal,
but food will be food.
I see strays on the street
with abundance as well;
appearing contaminated,
dreaming of rice,
struggling to walk.
But a simple pat on the head
revises that fearful dog,
and revisits that childlike wonder
of a puppy
who has lived long enough
that they have forgotten
the feeling of
affection.