The Bloodhound
Dawn breaks…
over the horizon in a thin, frail line
my large snout presses downward
upon the ragged earth
I am on the hunt
absorbed in my task
scanning and searching
for that elusive scent
that is in my wake.
Like a great detective
I leave no stone unturned
I am proud of my prodigious nose
finely tuned, precise as a compass
I can detect the rarest of scents
I probe to follow that unique smell
to find what is lost...
it is the zenith of my existence.
What, ho! Now, the scent!
My body trembles with the thrill of discovery!
Onward, I go, with eager anticipation
I will not stop until I reach my destination.
Alas, my determination pays off
my master sees the end in sight...
I do not understand his sudden sadness
how he draws back
at the scene set before him.
As I nuzzle close to my master
his salty tears drench my face
my doleful eyes seem to comfort him
as we huddle together
underneath the dry, hot sun.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.