A Dog Who Ate a Pond Lily

Winifred Welles

Tired of being my dog, and with grave anger
That there were only ivory bones to eat,
He left me for the pond, filled with a hunger,
Half memory, for some immaculate meat
To lay on his bright tongue-I saw him linger,
Fastidiously nose the shimmering heat,
And, as if suddenly grown brisker, younger,
Snap up a lily, living, flushed and sweet.
Like one frail sound the summer, softly muted,
Buzzed in his silky ear. A long, long while
He stood in reeds and godlike trance fast-rooted.
The taste of lotos made him strangely smile-
No more my humble dog, sad-eyed, four-footed,
He was Anubis wading in the Nile.