The Rugged Rocky Robertson Hill : 2012
Looking skywards, the Alsatian’s eyes glinted for a split second, connecting to a piercing sun ray.
The ray beamed onto dried semen ammonia. Hot dog breath puffed from his nostrils, onto my bare arm.
He sprung next to a sweating succulent, where a tiny kruisbessie leaf quivered human sperm cell display, in a whimpering breeze.
This was a filigree second, in a day of twenty-four hours times twenty-four hours.
Next the Alsatian’s back muscles rippled.
Coarsely-soft black-brown hair along his spine needled up. Four other police dogs whelped in frenzy. He gave a whip snort-sniff, then one sharp bark of achievement.
Wolf ancestry pupils dilated, penetrating that of his handler.
Time, matrixed into bruised, scratched body was a figment, my cells metabolising light and raw earth like the fragrant koppie bushes. Detective voices sliding sediment rock were parachutes opening, falling, dissipating __the helicopter an incessant mozzie.*
“Hy’t dit gekry.” **
The Alsatian with his helper dogs found the evidence of a brutal ripping of my young teen daughter’s virginity, by an impoverished farm worker, on a rugged hill in the Little Karoo.
THE ALL partnered with dogs for humans.
from my loins, a jewel
God connected sun with earth
violence, a teacher
_________________
*mozzie : slang word for mosquito
** “He’s found it.”
_________________
This lifetime’s moment is etched into my evolving DNA as experience. The power of seeing an Alsatian’s eyes connect in radar, with the heavenly Sun, directing him to dried semen on a delicate fynbos* leaf was astounding. Instant perception was one specific gift during great trauma. I chose this unrepeatable moment as it emerged from memory when I read the contest details.
No line was hard to write, though I shed a couple of stagnant tears.
I deleted how I was able to access the best sniffer dogs in the country, the Alsatian and his handler being flown in from another city. I deleted contextual details about the time.
____________________
*fynbos : fine sweet smelling bushes, some producing small flowers, indigenous to South Africa. Rocky koppies are often covered with them, making this type of hill challenging to climb.
PLACED NINTH : Premier Contest
Sponsor: Daniel Henry Rodgers
Feb. 26
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.
