Last night the hounds were baying at my heels.
Old companions who have followed me faithfully,
have slept at my feet and kept me warm.
They have pursued me long enough.
I sent them away but still hear their howls.
A hound got in last night
I don’t know it’s name
but it knocked the light over
and broke the water pitcher
and nuzzled up to my chest
where I embraced it.
The hounds always were capricious
but it’s not fun anymore
they’re giving me sullen looks,
slinking around corners,
chewing up my shoes in secret.
Read more about the hounds, The Hounds, Act 2