WEN: BF3428
Exhibitor Name: Louise Moises
Division: Poetry (Adults)
Class: 01 Poetry
An Old Mongrel Dog I am an old mongrel dog with greying muzzle leashed to a tree with a tough rope, too tough to chew through. I wait for you, my master, why are you so late? Circling and circling, the rope tangles and shortens my reach. Sprinklers come on spraying the lawn and me
I amweary of waiting, confused by your absence. Finally, I sleep dreaming of running on the sand with you. Morning comes, but you do not. My bowl is empty. I hunger
for you: your scent, your touch. When the sun is high, a woman comes, untangles the rope, un-clips the leash, picks me up, puts me in an unfamiliar carrier. Where is he? I whimper. She does not hear me. She speaks to a stranger, No one wants him , she says Going to put him down . I don’t understand what she said. Is she bringing me to you? I hope so.
with cold water, over and over, I shake the wet frommy back until the watering stops. I pull at my bindings to reach a small piece of sunlight, where I can stretch and dry my fur, shivering, I rest. As night falls, moaning into the grass longing for you, I listen for your voice. When the moon rises, I howl like my ancestors And still you do not appear. An owl flies fromout of the oak, a raccoon wanders across the grass to dig for grubs; he eyes me suspiciously. I amnot a creature of the night. You bring me in when it gets dark. We eat together and sit by the fire; you read and I sleep, At your bedtime, I go up the stairs climb on to the bottom of your bed, where I guard you through the night.
Made with FlippingBook Online newsletter