Dogs barking echoes
into the woods
as twilight comes then goes dark.

I pace the square
inside my cabin.

Dogs barking up the hill,
barks bouncing off the moon,
falling back down
softly into the leaf litter.

I ask myself for solutions,
Who? What? When?
Questions that hit the wall hard
and fall empty to the floor.

Dogs barking barks
that slam dance out in the yard.

I talk to the clock:
Move, hands, move!
Take this cup of time from me.

Dogs barking staccatos,
like pointillist painters
with palettes of sound.

I fall into bed exhausted,
begging for the night to find for me
something I can’t find for myself.

Dogs lying all about,
snoring snores,
spilling sawdust everywhere.