Leroi

Spare of flank

and bright of eye

he passed the quiet waters by

hours or was it years ago

 

Grown now

a mean machine

with forward-looming

tripod stance

angular

head swivelling

on pivotal neck

 

Mighty in battle

and fearing no evil

he's positioning himself

to be leader of the pack

of prisoners in the house

but still prostrates himself

before what matters

like the old man

(it's a matter of form)

and he's master of that

 

Watch the terrible

periscope of his eye

as it rotates

in the sesamoid skull

muscles braced for attack

what is his prey?

 

On an outing

birds give

an excuse to run

like Nijinsky

in three bounds

he's gone

on the wheels of the wind

the warlock sheers and turns

flying with birds and their shadows

across the horizon

 

When he returns

you know he cares

of what use

is the majestic slope

of those shoulders

the massive shovel of the snout

the chisel teeth

and the hungry look

of that serrulated chest?

 

While we imagine he's

a deterrant to thieves

he's passing the time

deconstructing furniture

so when I come home

the chairs lie in pieces

the bed is unsprung

then he fears

both rod and staff

and lies quaking outside

 

Pardon your iniquity Leroi

and the mischief in your heart

today I looked outside to see

a snowfield of feathers in the yard

you killed a bird at last?

Fiend!

now you have murdered my pillow.

 

(Rosemary Raiche)