The River In A Dog Year Poem by David Barry Temple

the river so low fish cannot swim
egret flocks to the fields instead
a man can ford with dry pants
and see mossy spots to avoid the dance

low clouds squeezed dry in the north
hang in waiting wind to blow southward
the raised mug of Gregorian beer
toasts the eve oflunar year

dry days done for cleaning house
youngsters on recess fascinated
become adept at renewal learned
midnight fireworks, demons spurned

on the third day do not socialize
we keep our big mouths shut
or risk on the shore loping by
a red dog's wrathful eye

then the potato harvest is picked
rice is returned to the paddies
what makes folk and farmers happy
a warm spring season of plenty

life dribbles like melting snow in March
pools depleted, beaches deserted
all wait indoors for the thrill
as plum rains replace the winter chill

torrents from mountain streams gush
as the dog year grows from a whimper
before it learns to bark
take a walk with it in apark

until the river gets fed full again
and this year's dogrears its head
a fine Taiwanese breed
a mighty canine, indeed

sleepy days of mosquitoes ahead
the dog this year lays down its fears
sweltering dusk of fruit bat hunter
on a river beach in Taichung summer

when the autumn moon shines down
upon the abundant River Han
dogs are there to guard creation
protecting notions of our nation