Julie Damerell

Day at the Office Our black dog, muzzled grey like her best friend, barks at leaves diving from trees. October is her busy month. We look every time, hoping for company.  This morning’s yap and chase is for three hawks, closely circling the house.  Three of us run window to door and back to see each edge of flight, to hold in our ken silver black bodies, feathers lined white.  They balance on wind’s sleeves, sewing currents with wing and beak.  Tracking their sphere,  our hound traces her own ring, wet and green. “Protect,  must protect,” she pants damply, duty bound.  Tonight eight deer will stand here, red eyes glistening in a banana moon’s glint.  A brown snowfall of sparrows will cover the green before the sun’s reach dries tomorrow’s dew.Today’s visitors fly away.  She lopes to the door, exhausted, job done.

Copyright © 1999 Julie Damerell All Rights Reserved "Day at the Office," originally appeared in the September issue of Poetry Life and Times