Across the graying snow,
my hound dog
bounding lightly, nuzzling patches
with her nose
and going crazy with delight
to feel the cold wads of it
clinging to her muzzle.
Despite my reluctance,
she had wanted to come out.
Naive to grumbled curses,
she resolved to bow
and splay and curl her body
in curious service
to this hostile environment
while I stood back on cold heels,
frozen toes, watching
with slow growing interest
blooming to amusement,
and genuflecting
imperceptibly now
to her and to all that is
still unavoidably
wonderful in this world.
