Morning Walk

Rhiannon Hall

A malamute’s panting breaths cloak this room in weariness

lamp light offers some warm comfort but the lumpy couch groans

Great Dane pup’s scratching at the door alerts reaching peachy-orange

sunrays to our need. Colour begins to pool on floorboards

soon we’re all stirring, joining the pup in her eager tongue-lolling

ready for morning walks. Even the malamute is urgent,

pushing his head into his lead. We haven’t enjoyed a sunrise in a while

stiffened joints have invited lazy mornings, but this pup

makes us all feel light as we open the door to morning music

cockatoos screeching to the sun, while a cat bathes on a driveway.

Contextual Essay: I’ve been rereading some of Australian poet Jill Jones’s writing. She uses imagery in a beautifully vivid way which inspired my use of imagery in this poem. My partner and I have made the decision to not have children. We feel that our lives are full as we give to and receive love from the children of our friends and siblings and our pets. Titan, our Alaskan malamute, has sadly passed away now, but the adoption of Xena, our 40kg lap dog, gave Titan energy in his last year. Xena continues to remind my partner and I that there is more to life than work and study, insisting that we spend time sitting on the couch in the evening and patting her. When it isn’t too cold, she also ensures that I remain active by dragging me out for morning walks. We live in the Southern Highlands of NSW, so she’s less keen on morning walks in our frosty Winters; she prefers morning cuddles at that time of the year.

Rhiannon Hall has been sharing her love of poetry for the past seven years through a poetry club at the high school where she teaches. She has poems published in BlazeVOX20, Burrow, Cordite Poetry Review, Meniscus, Please See Me, Tarot, and has published an essay in Axon: Creative Explorations. She is a Doctor of Creative Arts candidate at Western Sydney University.