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A Dog Has Become Ferocious With His Echo


One eighty degrees of chained freedom
has swept the water bowl of its contents.
White and sporadic with fly fascination,
it bakes in the afternoon sun.
A bat blinks in the diamond distance.

The ball flies high and silent then is heard
by a boy who throws alone against the wall.
He turns, the brick is silent, the dog watching
and as the batter makes his slide for first,
Joe makes slow strides toward a stranger's yard.

The dog growls, tail down and rigid with fear.
Rounding third, the runner spies the invader
who tops the fence and crouches, speaking softly.
From his voice is learned a fearless love of all, even
of this wretched dog. A tail comes up and the valve

shudders as six feet hit the fence. They kick
at his face and stomach while the dog shreds a thigh.
One officer records three eye-witness accounts of a prowler
who slumps bloody and cuffed in the back of their car.
A door slams and the dog turns from his drink to confront the echo.