Menu Switch

Collies & Sheep

By David Blair From Issue No. 1

When I forget the crazy bugs,

the scarlet and black moths,

the delicate-winged and immense flies

the color of frozen or weak tea,

the cows with wide faces over the gate

because they were not looking at us,

they were just being cows,

I’ll remember the faces of collies

bounding around and being useful

with their happy and lean intelligence.

Whenever I see a collie in the city,

I will know that he or she is one

of the underemployed, the unfulfilled,

not knowing any cows or sheep

to laugh up at, they look so meaty.

We saw two dogs on a beach, collared,

trotting along with no people in sight,

two friends out for a ramble,

perhaps relatives even

or old business associates,

the older one game with a limp.

Maybe the dogs had just met.

Sure, we all screw up at times.

We also found a sheep skeleton

further down the surf,

the large back bones

partially connected,

half a skull, an upper jaw

bitten into Mayo sand.

About David Blair More From Issue No. 1