She saw them long before me
She was in a stance: graceful, poised -
yet set, my labradoodle - Mathilda.
We had been on our normal walk:
She sniffing; me gazing,
when we came upon them
around the corner passed the lilacs and the yews
We both loved the spring so......
and suddenly they were nibbling, two rabbits,
and we both glared; she more gracefully, standing,
the hunter in her - chained by the collar she
was accustomed to around her neck
we enjoyed their glee
of hunger at the grass and they nibbled away..
each on its own respective sluice of leaf, munching;
my labradoodle's mission entirerly different from mine
for I went into a reverie
about a poem someone wrote me once with love
and in it I was a tree whose leaves changed in every
season: in autumn my leaves were gold and travellers
would come from far and near to be near me; in
spring I was a harmonious lavender and my leaves giggled,
floating in the wind with joy;
in winter my berries were bright red with passion
and in summer birds only wanted to perch on the tips of
my branches to feel the sun's warmest strength.
I recounted those words and my feelings
as I set my eyes on Mathilda
and remembered how passionately those words of poem
were delivered to me only to be asked of me months later
if I still had that poem for the deliverer wanted it now
for someone else.
It was just then that I snapped from my reverie
and released my dog from her chain
because I knew she wanted it so badly.
recommend this
email
print
link to this page
Comments: 17
Oh Anne how delightful ... yep, Jack and I were there two weeks ago. What a lovely sight.
thanks, Liz....I am always there and very thankful for Mathilda!
Anne, you surprised me with your ending. And the tag, so close to the end visually, also helped me to understand what you meant. In that sense, I think you might insert one or two words to indicate hurt within the poem itself. If you post/publish this elsewhere, the tag won't be there.
I am intrigued by how you brought an entirely new idea into your narrative--the other poem. You added it so smoothly that when you returned to the present and the scene with the bunnies, I was startled. Very nice!
Two words seemed out of place for me. One is the glare that you and dog gave to the rabbits. It caused me to wonder why you glared and that question was never answered. Also, when the leaves giggled. Somehow that word seems misapplied. I'd change it or explain it a little.
Susan I do appreciate your comment. I did explain the giggling leaves(see next line) and the poem is from the heart so it stays exactly as placed.
Your scene is ofvivid imagery, but more important is the thread of remembering a loved companion. This is like a celebration of what once was that continues to bring a joyous thought inside the sadness of your heart's loss.
Such deeper meaning within the reverie, and very well done.
Featured in the The Triple Name Club
I enjoyed this immensely ... having had my share of dogs as companions. I delighted in the surprise ending.
This is awesome
This is a magical poem, Ann; a kind of narrative that draws you in to a hidden sadness, and allows you to enter in to it through the speaker's mind, as you go down the lines. You did a marvelous job with the flow in this poem. What strikes me most from this poem is the passion of desire and how easily it can be thwarted. I love the ending, how it serves as a kind of catharsis. Well done!
I agree with both Bill and Edward, this is a magical as well as vivid poem that puts the reader in a kind of reverie or continuous dream with the speaker, Ann. The way the narrator tells the story of this poem within a poem while lost in thought in an almost Virginia Woolfian stream of consciousness while regarding her beloved dog , Matilda, as the central reflector for her impressions, chafing at the bit to hunt down rabbits, is remarkably well done.
I got that tingling throughout my body that I only get with the best sort of story poems that lull me into a sympathetic identification that quite frankly almost feels like hypnosis.
One of your absolute best, my dear!
Wow...the ending on this poem ROCKS! I never saw it coming or the twist on the poem given you. Just beautiful!
Simply beautiful writing, Ann. I was with you every minute. Oh, desire and its many forms.
Ann, this is an enchanting poem. I too like the passing of the poem here. The beauty of your heart is evident in this most thoughtfully penned poem.