The Dog At Odyak

She is keen this May
Setting her ears

To every voice of leg
That crosses her whereabout;

Saliva from her mouth
Is a ceaseless-
Stream to an oasis.

The sticks of hunger
And anger design
Her ribs and cheeks,

Before posho is thrown
She prompts her presence

The dog at Odyak
Spares no food offered

Sorghum bread
Is sweeter than potato
This famine season;

Her jaws are bushtraps
Waiting earnestly for a foe
And hers arrests leftovers.