The Seasons : Four Dalmatian
by Kim Blutreich
Pieces of Spring
In early Spring, in years we've bred,
the winter pups are
a time of joy, and hopes, and prayer,
and, on my part, some
They leave with leads, and puppy food,
and lots of wishes
but, where only the puppy knows,
a piece of me is
Next year I'll visit them again,
and feel their hugs and
and, if they're honestly content,
they'll give me back these
And if all pieces are returned
and time has dulled the
I'll think of fuzz, and puppy breath,
and brace for Spring
Snapshots of Summer
Stalking dragonflies ranks high on the ladder of futility,
early Summer evenings the Dalmatians seem to love it;
they leap high in
demonstration of their marvelous agility,
and then contemplate their
nose, and the dragonfly above it.
There is something most alluring about new-grown Summer
that compels every Dalmatian to turn bovine and ingest
But, alas, it re-emerges when it gets to a certain mass-
can chew it, they can eat it, but they sure cannot digest it!
Summer is a time of drowsy, stretched out in the shade
half-closed eylids, pungent apples, and the distant thought of
I look at Summer as an album full of sweet and soothing
storing memories away for a winter's evening dreaming.
Homer, I fear, is growing old;
my gorgeous blue-eyed boy;
son's bed pal, my first show dog,
my friend, my pride, my joy!
I watch him in the morning mist
now studying frogs, now
his famous yearly ritual:
Time will win out, and slow him down,
and I accept that
But until then, I'll watch him dance
his song of spots in
Sometimes, during the winter season,
They seem off their usual best,
for no reason.
Personally, I rather enjoy the slowdown,
and they seem to
inert layers of black-spotted fur,
and some brown.
Outside, there's a thick, icy glaze.
Dals hibernate, it
twiching, living again in their dreams,
Kim Blutreich Minoan Dalmatians P.O. Box 580 Wingate, NC