I drew a picture of my terrier
bouncing on a trampoline
to knock the high pears down.
The idea was his:
he would jump out of our bedroom window
onto the taut cloth
and ricochet up into the cornucopia where
juicy fruit would go flying,
whacking in yellow and lilac on our heads.
I scrawled the mayhem in my sketchpad
where it makes me laugh,
I notice in self-analysis
my character owes some provenance to the pup’s ingenuity
in Roobarb and Custard.
Good boy, curly boy.
White rims round your eyes
underline the head-strain
as you swizzle your big nose about
at the sound of voices.
The tree’s a stump,
cut down in hard grief
for next door’s son, accident prone
at university, fatally so.
He fell through a glass roof into shatters.
But Solly’s still here, aren’t you Solly?
He’s bounding to the back fence
to bark at the park.
Jude Cowan Montague has worked as an archivist on the Reuters Television collection for ten years, cataloguing news and interpreting video in poetry form. She is an award-winning printmaker and musician. www.judecowan.net