Canine Eclogue

Kendra Leonard

September 7, 2022

Whose coonhound there is singing,

marking possum and raccoon—

those magicians of night who in slim hours

make the landscape of fences and grills,

cars and patios all their own—

and baying at full throat?

He is not mine; mine is the Pyrenees dog,

turned kangaroo to leap for the possum.

Her barking is not song, but in her pride,

recounting her diligence in guarding

me, her livestock, she will make 

a great roar of self-satisfaction.

Whose dog is it that barks for bedtime:

nine o’clock, he barks, eleven o’clock,

small chihuahua barks,

short blasts of alarm, coming from the safety

of the deck

under which

the possum lurks. 

Not mine either; mine is the long

and lean dog, his edges fringed 

like a Western shirt: he makes noise rarely,

unprovoked but for large strangers.

These hounds a soundscape craft

that I would allow every and all nights

were it not for neighbors with guns, Texas triggered,

for making silent what would naïvely sing,

voicing instinct, excitement, and scent.

Kendra Preston Leonard is a librettist and lyricist inspired by history, language, the environment, social issues, and the mythopoeic. Her first chapbook, Making Mythology, was published in 2020 by Louisiana Literature Press, and her novella in verse, Protectress, was published in 2022 by Unsolicited Press.