Canned chorus of barks
Rattle to a crescendo.
Behind the trees
The kennel echoes.
The howls subside.
A cockerel crows.
Static of tyres
On slipping stones.
The air exhales
A distant gushing breeze.
A hammer cries
In dull metallic shrieks.
The road beyond
Sighs a swelling, nasal
groan.
Half formed words
Of children dance below.
In the relative calm
A cow clears its throat
Turns to the horizon
And boldly lows.
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