Last week I watched my beagle run, spine-
Spring, paw-patter, vertebrae unwinding
In an arc, and the biologist in me could think
Of nothing but our origins, lives before domestication.
The canine skull is crested by a blade of bone
On which thick masseters insert
So jaws can rend muscle, silence
Lung-rhythms. The human cranial capacity is 1000 cc,
Three times greater than the next closest primate,
So we harden the tips of sharpened sticks
On embers, pull them against taut resin-
Slick string, kill from afar.

You can’t simplify mythos to anatomy,
Wolf and man to differences of marrow—
The lupine surge of fur and sinew
As the pack traced deadly geometry,
Gnashing teeth sparking thunder,
Paw prints volcanic; two-legs spinning flame
From air, carving fangs from stone, multiplying
To drink rivers dry. Imagine the day they joined our fire,
Union of Lupus and Orion. Oh, how the beasts
On Earth trembled before us,
How they cowered in our wake.

But none of this explains the wick of water
From my lashes, the strain of my too-tight chest
As I knelt on asphalt beside my dog’s broken body,
One hand on the receding tide of his chest,
The other cupped to cradle his muzzle.
None of this explains how, even as his breath
Misted my palm red, he licked my curled fingers,
Tried, but couldn’t find the strength to nuzzle
Against my knuckles. Why can’t I find peace
In the drop of his eyelids, the twitch of one calf
As he leapt away into dream-dust,
A hunt that I could not follow.