Poetry: Doglick Pantoum

by Margot Reith

Baby’s head is round like a ball
with a subtle sweetness like spring peas.
What a treat! What a treat to love this baby with all
the whole soft lacework of me. 

With a subtle sweetness like spring peas,
he wails with pathetic despair.
The whole soft lacework of me
is electric as I creak up the stairs.

He wails with pathetic despair
when a door thuds closed,
is electric as I creak up the stairs
followed hotly by a wet nose. 

When a door thuds closed,
I am shot through with relief,
followed hotly by a wet nose—
the sniffling of guilt & grief. 

I am shot through with relief—
the dog can stay, she gave just a thwip of tongue.
The sniffling of guilt & grief:
I’m sullenly vindicated; he now knows fear of love.

The dog can stay, she gave just a thwip of tongue:
What a treat! What a treat to love this baby with all!
I’m sullenly vindicated he now knows fear of love.
Baby’s head is round like a ball.