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Clearing

Clearing

A dog the colour of fallen leaf
dancing in the woods:
a whirling dervish, his long ears
mad coattails flying free,
his nose sniffing the sun.

He is so There, living the Now,
listening, feeling his song.
What does he see in his mind's eye
to make him pirouette
and smile--

oblivious to everything,
even the unicycle going by
topped by a bearded man,
the rabbit winking from the ferns
that line the path?

Leaves clap against the forest floor
when he is done,
and Time starts up again;
Nijinsky is a hound again,
and I attach the leash
to my left hand.


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