The river dogs

Photo by ramy Kabalan on Pexels.com
I went to watch the mountain breathe over your crumbling house
to smell oregano and sulphur in the pollen spotted air
and watch the river dogs wrinkle water as they drink.
I went to visit the room where your Wednesday daughter slept
they supervised your fairy-tales and scrawled ticks and crosses
on Friday they would take her back and you’d sit by the river.
I went to the river and pictured that river dog approach you all nervous.
I remember how you said it was a mistake to let a wild thing into a home
that night it laid a hen by your bed like a gift from the wild at heart.
I remember the bond you had, how the dog slept by the door protecting her.
I remember that Friday when it went to the river to drink with its kin
they turned on it and you realised as the gun cocked what love truly is.
Leave a Reply