Quadruped Sleep
It would appear that not only do men dream, but horses also, and dogs, and oxen; aye, and sheep, and goats, and all viviparous quadrupeds; and dogs show their dreaming by barking in their sleep.
– Aristotle, Historia Animalium
Horse
A hat walks under my chin
I lift with the ends of my teeth
and a boy’s face tips up
the mouth round and so close
that I could eat his breath
I see a dark thing twisting at the edge of vision
my back legs dance sideways when the front pull straight
In distance even stone walls shrink like a day going past
it comes back in pieces
the hayrack’s full
Ox
the shoulders ache and the neck
we pull the earth to order
ruts in the field heave under our hooves
when my partner stumbles my head bows with his
a soft breeze, a place without flies
now I bow my head freely to the grass
Goat
Somebody’s kicking, skin twitches
my legs want to jump
blackberry vines perfume the mouth
I climb past a fence, up a mountain and see
down the other side the same bracken I’ve left
I leap into wilderness
my ears catch the air like wings
Sheep
I listen for our safety
the others’ breath a low song
night rolls out its dampness
a bowl of stars cups our heads
Dog
clotting stink of raccoon in the plum tree
I leap that high
chickens squawk and flap across the yard
my teeth snap on a feather’s edge
when the phantom pack races
the night sky, I howl with it
until human voices call
my wild song into their lighted room
Sherry Mossafer Rind’s most recent book is Between States of Matter.
Header photo by Andriy Solovyov, courtesy Shutterstock. Photo of Sherry Mossafer Rind by Jed Share.
