The Whistle's Dirge

The dog trod the path
Towards the den.
The hunter sounded his whistle
Towards the dog.
The rarefaction and compression
Of the whistle sound,
Like the rustling of forest leaves
And the howling of passing wind,
Journeyed hollow through its ears.
The hunter's whistle sings its dirge,
Sooner, the dog is bathed in blood.

poem by Adeoye Adetoba
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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