Blinkers

Watch the dogs in the meadow water,
dapple horses by the primroses,
the strays baying in their kennel cages.
Along a mile mongrel skyline
amble the fitful ramblers, caparisoned in gaiters,
woollen, unsteady, like colts in blinkers.

Wash the hounds after walking.
Ringing out the meadowed rags,
clay suds on the dun tarmac.
Slop out the watering can
and its soap sorrel contents,
the dogged struggle precedes
the matted armistice.

Watching us washing the dogs,
and blinking indignant,
canter the ramblers,
through mire and muzzle water,
animals flaring eyes upwards,
at a cremello cloud like a cataract.