Showing posts with label Bruce Dawe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bruce Dawe. Show all posts

Monday, January 2, 2012

Dogs in the Morning Light

Responsive to the tune of lawns and trees
Dogs sally forth
In whiskery mongrel innocence: all over town
The irresistible rumour of the day
Prickles their hides and sets their bladders singing
Of doggy derring-do beyond their dreams.
No street but has its canine tributary
-Confluent in lanes,
They swirl about in bright-eyed vortices,
Whirl-pools of snap and sniff and pink-tongued grin.


Quizzical howdies done, the world's a labyrinth
Of tortuous delight through which his nose
Leads on each quivering Theseus.
Dazed, dazed they go
Into the maze of history where the sharpest
Barkers fall silent . . .
                                 O Humble retrospection, whose sole means
Lies in the bleached unanswerable
Excreta of the past, the spicy airs
Rising from every spot where dogs have paused,
And, pausing, thrown a bridge across Time's stream!


Let the bells swing slow, their clappers muffled be,
All over town, in many a public place,
Dogs are having their first one for the day,
Rapt vacuity on each raffish face.


by Bruce Dawe