after the twists and turns

that boxing day morning, I would hear the familiar,   far-off gowls and gulders,   over keenaghan and aughanlig   of a ...

Pack of beagles. From Full Cry Hound Blog. Notes from the Pack.

that boxing day morning, I would hear the familiar,  
far-off gowls and gulders,  
over keenaghan and aughanlig  
of a pack of beagles, old dogs disinclined to chase a car  
suddenly quite unlike  

themselves, pups coming helter-skelter  
across the ploughlands with all the chutzpah of veterans  
of the trenches, their slate-greys, cinnamons, liver-  
browns, lemons, rusts and violets  

turning and twisting, unseen, across the fields,  
their gowls and gulders turning and twisting after the  
twists and turns  
of the great hare who had just now sauntered into the  
yard where I stood on tiptoe  

astride my new Raleigh cycle,  
his demeanour somewhat louche, somewhat  
lackadaisical  
under the circumstances, what with him standing on  
tiptoe  

as if to mimic me, standing almost as tall as I, looking  
as if he might for a moment put  
himself in my place, thinking better of it, sloping off  
behind the lorry bed.  

'Beagles'  

Photo: Full Cry

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