|
Joules, a mongrel
Lunger
after cars,
Fence-long chaser of passers-by,
Lightning-fast protector
Of stones and scraps
Of paper that he sets such
Teasing store by,
Nothing betrays the hip
Deformity that might have meant
A life confined to leads
And medication.
Kernel in the curves
Of older dogs whose ears he holds
In constant open season,
Teddy-bear-like he peers
Through facial fur, head
Cocked to listen, waiting
To welcome a return with such
Ecstasy of warmth it seems
Death must have intervened
And this is heaven.
by Damaris West
Read the story behind this poem
|
|
