Beahcomber Dog
Beachcomber dog is on my trail,
windy company, late December;
distracts my glance; a mute tale,
within his shiny eyes and amber.
A fervent dog, paces on shore,
sniffing my footsteps as I walk
December is gray, an icy hoar,
sea waves on monotonous talk.
I turn to see, the friendly dog,
a kind smile! Maybe a biscuit
if I could find! a dark icon in fog,
much he 'd like a tasty brisket!
The wind spells around the dog,
his bitter cold is apt to remind,
that we are firmed upon a clog,
on aimless course, a port to find.
A strange dog, on random stroll,
I left in fog years ago, his bark,
I hear; eyes appear like odd call
and old spirits salute me in dark.
I turn to approach the stray dog,
but he 's not there, flied in air,
marginal aptitude, figure in fog
marginal solitude a dusk despair.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Added by Poetry Lover
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