4 responses

  1. thanks!

    The paws twitch in a place of chasing
    Where the whimper of this seeming-gentle creature
    Rings out terrible, chasing tigers. The fields
    Are licking like torches, full of running,
    Laced odors, bones stalking, tushed leaps.
    So little that is tamed, yet so much
    That you would find deeply familiar there.
    You are there often, your very eyes,
    The unfathomable knowledge behind your face,
    The mystery of your will, appraising.
    Such carnage and triumph; standing there
    Strange even to yourself, and loved, and only
    A sleeping beast knows who you are.

    “Dog Dreaming” by W.S. Merwin

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