Nahno McLein

Watching two White Dogs

There he flits through oiled daylight,
across black hills, deep down raw paths.
He roams his veil of linen cloth,
then stops, surveys to sniff
her out.

His eyes dropped - striving down towards
where once his purple collared wife
had rested, waiting foolishly,
in hope their paint will bleed.

Sunset haunts her traveller,
his piercing rips exert themselves
and make his paws proceed.

His hanging ears are not deceived!
The husband strands,
I see him grieve.
They hang apart:
express their calm
belief.
...

This poem is supposed to have an excellent first stanza. The image of husband and wife seems not to work as well though. I would be happy to get other opinions or feedback in generell, as I will have to re-work this free verse poem.