The gentle lady

The gentle lady with the brown dog
Is running again.

In the morning, she gets out of the building
And runs. Runs. Runs.
To fool the dog
So it keeps off the “keep off” grass.

But on the way back, she is tired of running.
The brown dog lays on the brown earth,
Steady, heavy.

I always wondered : has it chosen where it wants to die?

Off the grass. Keep dogs off the grass.
What does that mean?
We are all made of earth. You cannot keep off it. 

For long.