The Hunt

Awake, I bid your body goodbye,

dress hurriedly and emerge

in the general sun. The dogs

pretend a hunger for the quarry

they cannot eat, and I mount

thinking of the night and your silk

stockings over the delicate legs

they cover, my intemperate vein

flashing love and anger, but-

the dogs have smelled the fox

and stretch undulating haunches

and we go off in a furious rush.