THE MARTYRED HOUND OF GLENDAGORRY
Only magic was the secondary notion. Everything else
had no reason to be : we stood at dusk looking out. Each
knowing, as it were, our different things. The spirit
dog was due again, across this beachfront horizon,
and we were there to watch. Or view. The sky has a
a phenomenon called 'Sun Dogs', where there seems
a second orb, another sun, a ring around, or something.
This is different. Over there, behind the sub shop, then
the bar, then the gazebo of that restaurant, there it was.
I saw it, that momentary black spirit dog. Running the
beach in a mad affront, wild legs pulling but getting
nowhere. This is dream. This is but notion. Action
must precede fulfillment; as we must await the real.
Satisfaction will not be forthcoming until I have, with
my own eyes, seen this highly-vaunted Spirit-Dog.