A Tragical Tale
Posted: Wed May 25, 2022 12:25 pm
She has a fever.
I leave her dozing fitfully on the veranda.
Halfway to the woods there is a farm gate
where she often squats to piss.
The tough grass is brown, but still thrives,
adapted as it is to a uric rain.
‘Paris’ the giant poodle is here,
his nose a rapier sniffing past and present.
Several dogs from good families arrive
to vie with each other, many pursue
the heady aroma of a ‘wherefore art thou.’
Tragically, Romeo (a bulldog neutered last week),
today plays alone with his squeaky bone.
Back home, Juliet circles my boots,
her nose searching out his wayward scent.
I leave her dozing fitfully on the veranda.
Halfway to the woods there is a farm gate
where she often squats to piss.
The tough grass is brown, but still thrives,
adapted as it is to a uric rain.
‘Paris’ the giant poodle is here,
his nose a rapier sniffing past and present.
Several dogs from good families arrive
to vie with each other, many pursue
the heady aroma of a ‘wherefore art thou.’
Tragically, Romeo (a bulldog neutered last week),
today plays alone with his squeaky bone.
Back home, Juliet circles my boots,
her nose searching out his wayward scent.