Howard Nelson


I sit on one shore, and she is on the other.
It's a pleasure to watch her
following her nose along the interesting
edge of the pond, disappearing
back into the brush, and emerging again.
She makes sniffing
look so appealing,
a nose the right way
to meet the world.  I admire
her long poetic snout, curious and acute,
her howls and much silence.
I admire her bony grace, crooked, strong legs.
I admire her pace,
her energy when running,
her peace when sleeping.
But now she is only investigating,
that casual, important business,
checking the news among the mud and grass.
And now she wades out so her belly
is well-down in the water,
she laps a drink, and loiters there
at the heart of a hot summer day.  She is
a cool dog in the pond of sensible desire.