Tonight's Poet Corner: The Hound's Pail

The Hound's Pail
by Belinda Roddie

I was in the kitchen when I
heard the coonhounds bay, and
when I checked outside, I saw the
puppies drinking straight from the tin
bucket dangling from a string,
and I knew it was Garth's moonshine,
transferred from the leaden barrel, and the
dogs got dizzy afterward, howling in
circles, tongues licking the stars.

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