With my eyes open I know what I am,
And what I am is lost in this nothing.
They sent me off drugged and bound with no plan,
Never to come home. I can only sing,
Howl my fear and my loneliness at a
Moon grown too large, too bright, and when my throat
Becomes too raw to sing, then I will say
Nothing. I will whimper a single note,
Musica canis, the song of living
Creatures in endless night. I want to go
Home. I want the scent of poppies, swimming
Holes, of summer fields, of the things I know.
But what I am is beyond redeeming:
A dog without a home, floating, dreaming.