HEARD
LANDSCAPE WITH DOG. By Paul Mariani
Often up the back steps he came bearing gifts.
Frozen squirrels, sodden links of sausage, garter snakes and the odd sneaker.
The gnarled marks are still there,
witness that confined, he took his tension out on doors and tables.
And life went on and mornings, peace and war, good times and depressions.
Pale sticks turned to trees. Boys to larger boys then men.
Ice storms, wakes, elections came and went.
And always he was there. Like air, a good wife.
But there's much to think about and think about again.
The last time I saw Sparky, he was dying.
His legs trembled and he kept moping after me.
I remember trying to get my stubborn mower started.
With no time to stop and pet a dog.
And having no time left himself,
Sparky thanked me in the only way he could for eleven years of care.
Then got up and walked out of my life.
And lay down somewhere in the woods to die.
One of the best things life ever handed me,
While I went on looking for a one inch nut and bolt, in among my rusting odds and ends.
I hope Mr Mariani will forgive me if I misheard words and used the wrong format for his poem. I listened to Poetry Please on the BBC 'Listen Again' website and wrote this down, using the pause button.
Sweeping the floor, I stopped and leant on the broom to listen. All thoughts of housework disappeared, as I had to have the words in my possession. Sometimes a piece of poetry or prose can do that.
Hunt it down, write it down and hold it close.
(click on highlighted text for link)
Often up the back steps he came bearing gifts.
Frozen squirrels, sodden links of sausage, garter snakes and the odd sneaker.
The gnarled marks are still there,
witness that confined, he took his tension out on doors and tables.
And life went on and mornings, peace and war, good times and depressions.
Pale sticks turned to trees. Boys to larger boys then men.
Ice storms, wakes, elections came and went.
And always he was there. Like air, a good wife.
But there's much to think about and think about again.
The last time I saw Sparky, he was dying.
His legs trembled and he kept moping after me.
I remember trying to get my stubborn mower started.
With no time to stop and pet a dog.
And having no time left himself,
Sparky thanked me in the only way he could for eleven years of care.
Then got up and walked out of my life.
And lay down somewhere in the woods to die.
One of the best things life ever handed me,
While I went on looking for a one inch nut and bolt, in among my rusting odds and ends.
I hope Mr Mariani will forgive me if I misheard words and used the wrong format for his poem. I listened to Poetry Please on the BBC 'Listen Again' website and wrote this down, using the pause button.
Sweeping the floor, I stopped and leant on the broom to listen. All thoughts of housework disappeared, as I had to have the words in my possession. Sometimes a piece of poetry or prose can do that.
Hunt it down, write it down and hold it close.
(click on highlighted text for link)
posted by herhimnbryn at 5:57 AM
16 Comments:
A good poem, a fine story. Hard lessons, to know when to drop the urgent to attend to the essential.
Thank you for publishing this. I might never have known of it, but for your thoughtfulness.
The trears in my eyes, testimony of it's power.
I once met Paul Mariani; a real person, if you know what I mean.
I know exactly what you mean I felt like that when you posted in that secrets poem here once.
Yes, it was the poem I heard!
For 2 weeeks after Poetry Pleas BBC I searched for Landscape With Dog. Thank You for copying it, brilliant. It makes me cry.
MO UK
I liked that very much! (as we dog-people were bound to). Glad you published it, because I, too, looked for it via Google and, whilst mentioned, it was not to be found, complete. Still, it gave me the chance to read other stuff by Paul Mariani, "which was nice".
Very moving.
Thanks for taking the time to write it down.
I heard a poem on CBC Radio that stopped me in my tracks too.
It's "Otherwise" by Jane Kenyon.
Google it.
Lovely poem HHB. It's so nice to be taken out of ones routine once in a while
Pete
X
It's beautiful without being overly sentimental. I've tried in vain to find the book it's from. Will let you know if I have any luck. Thanks for posting it. Of the ten or so I heard on the radio it's the only one that's stayed with me.
Thanks so much. Heart-wrenching.
i can see why you wanted to have this and hold it close.
Oh, I see you leaning on your broom. You sent me away, too. I looked up Paul Mariani, then Robert Bly, then William Stafford, because one thing leads to another, and my morning disappeared.
Thankyou all for your responses to this poem. I am glad to know that several people were looking for it. Also, I have enjoyed following your your 'bread crumb trail' to other poets.
God, H - that is so beautiful and moving.
lj. It stays with you doesn't it?
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