in a creek bed outside town
it takes mum all day
to scratch the ground open
one hundred mourners in black
lay eggs under a sun that plucks tears
before they hatch from the eyes
as corellas shriek the coronach
in the weeks that follow
he is kiln-dried
in a rubbled barrow
of hot terracotta
like a pottery dog of emperor jingdi
i bring sprigs of lantana
in aluminium foil
and hope that
when the rain comes
my prince of princes
will float away
© meredi o
8 responses so far ↓
1 rocafuentes // Aug 17, 2007 at 11:16 am
very sad - reminded me of my old best friend
:-0(
2 theverger // Aug 24, 2007 at 4:33 am
Is there a religous undertone to this piece?
3 squib // Aug 24, 2007 at 5:28 am
Yes, you could say it’s sort of a subversive William Blakesque-canine-resurrection piece… and my dear dog was called Prince, which kind of helped
4 jean // Aug 31, 2007 at 5:08 am
very compelling, even for a non-dog person.
well done!
5 squib // Aug 31, 2007 at 5:28 am
thanks!
6 Donna // Apr 8, 2008 at 9:43 am
Oh M, that is such a gorgeous poem.. I remember Prince… what a flashback.
Dx
7 squib // Apr 8, 2008 at 10:16 am
Hi Donna! Good to see you!
x
8 corinne // Jul 16, 2008 at 11:26 am
Beautiful, your writing is always compelling
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