Park West

- dogs are gone whipped scurrilous
to the undergrowth
red fur ripped and fresh
with blood cracked plans
laid “if-then-else” before -
we must beware
electric blue on rib-cage pulse
pupils blank to fingers jab -

Dog-days are gone, bears can roll the corpse
and finish the leavings.
Collars are empty, old leads dangle,
scratchings and claw-marks
the back-door swings quietly open
cold dirt shaken from paws
a chill wet nose nuzzles my cheek

in the distance, a last long howl -
march on, sez dog-foot,
spoor trek we must hide,
we're loosely bound and late
stragglers there must be -
this is far and home's no more -

- the hill-tops crowd with shadows,
a drop will bring them down.
Dog will eat dog, that you can be sure
and the young go first.