Excerpt of a Dream

Dog and boy, charcoal fur

matted down the side, waterside

in reeds, waiting. Hiding.

Staggered breathing.

Boy and dog, wool lined boots

and charcoal cap, fingers pink

and raw inside the knit,

smooth metal pressed against a lap.

Gunmetal grey, the sky of autumn

and early morning. Geese in flight,

without warning, coming down

to bed the freezing reeds.

He bleeds. Warmth of air

and powder, the sound will echo

down the coves, the creeks.

He bled on hardened slush.

Dog was quick and willing, ice

forming on charcoal fur, sent

flying in the dash for the slurry

on an autumn's river edge.

What a prize.

Padded paws press in the sand

and head is high. Blood congeals

and sticks to a toothless hold,

carried within sight

of a boy, maybe twelve, maybe ten.

The art of dog and boy, boy

and dog, is woven once again.

Master's boy and master's friend,

heading home, holding strong

to the dew slick downy

and darkened feet.

Another male this week.