On the Isle of Dogs we barked.
We had our say
from day till dark.
A chorus we were
of piebald hounds.
Our howling spiraled out
across the downs.
We howled at the redness of light,
bayed at the rising waters
and approaching night --
we lived on an island of sounds.
None listened, none heard,
the sounds were entirely ours
None listened, none heard
but we didn't care
as long as our howls
shaped the still air --
we lived on the Isle of Sounds.
No comments:
Post a Comment