The dogs tug on their lines
like fish
They pull me off balance, damn
I swear like my father
I have no patience
Unlucky animals, I think
they take what they can get
from a woman who loves them
from time to time
Whenever she happens
to turn her eyes toward
the slowly waving feather—
the delicate tail of the world
Contemporary Verse 2: The Canadian Journal of Poetry and Critical Writing
502-100 Arthur Street, Winnipeg, MB, R3B 1H3
Phone: (204) 949-1365 Fax: (204) 942-1555
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