Baby
listens to the music of Dog running; plink plink plink; through the dry stalks
in the cut field. I don’t know what she makes of this world, but she clearly
attends to it. Solemn mouth imitates the sound of the wind in the trees;
studious hand opens to gauge the movement of the air. Big eyes reflect the sky.
Words of purposeful nonsense are addressed to us.
‘Ogledoggle.’
‘Dog?’
‘Uh
huh.’
I
whistle Dog from her roaming: this is funny, belly laugh funny. A whistle
conjures a dog. A happy dog at that. Dog’s tail wags in a circular motion,
seems to propel her forwards. I listen to the music of the dry stalks, to the
operatic snort of granddaughter.
Love and joy; the deepest truths.
ReplyDeleteYou've described this little scene so beautifully. Isn't is glorious to view the world through the eyes of a grandchild?
ReplyDeleteThank you :-) It is indeed a scene of love and joy- Dog and Baby both have a fine view of the world!
ReplyDelete