Submission Information

Anne Le Dressay -
Excerpt from Decalogue: ten Ottawa poets

From my Office Window

I thought she was kicking at the leaves
as she walks across the soccer field
leaning hard against the wind,
but she has a bouncy little brown thing
on a leash and seems to be kicking
some object for it to chase.
I can’t see the object.  It’s too far and
I forgot my glasses again.
I can’t even see for sure
if the bouncy brown thing is a dog,
though it must be.  Cats don’t come
in that shade of brown and don’t
walk so willingly on leashes.
It could of course be some entirely
different bouncy animal, and she
might even be he in these days
of indiscriminately cultivated long hair.
It’s just that I think I recognize
that blob of blue as a particular sweater
that goes with that color of yellow hair
on a particular person.
I should have remembered my glasses.
Then I could have spoken with certainty
about the dog and the nature of the
object kicked and whether the walker
is she or he and maybe even told you
who.  She is gone now and the dog too,
or whatever it was, and the soccer field
is empty of detail, though if I had my glasses
it might not be.

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