There is a dog barking somewhere down the street,
steadily, in snatches of three and four,
mufiled, irregular, but continual.
I think of going downstairs, tracking him down,
my fury mounting as his barks grow louder,
and when I have found him, what will I not do?
But already the barks trail off, two,
a silence, one, now nothing, nothing
to stir me out of my chair, into the darkness.
The Bachelor
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