Alone, the bridle master

whips his dogs into a frenzy,

he sees how rugged, how

ungovernable his path,

how it hugs the stinking dykes,

choked with yesterday’s promise

and tomorrow’s thickening malaise;

and in the subdued still of the marsh,

with storm clouds gathering out at sea

and the scent of fear on the wind,

he stands pathetic,

and alone.