The Hand that Feeds

Day 27: "W.H. Auden’s “Musée des Beaux Arts” takes its inspiration from a very particular painting: Breughel’s “Landscape with the Fall of Icarus.” Today we’d like to challenge you to write your own poem that describes a detail in a  painting, and that begins, like Auden’s poem, with a grand, declarative statement."

I'm sitting in my conservatory looking not at a painting but at a mosaic of a dog made from broken crockery: Cleo Mussi, A-Z Handbook, Pp is for Pat a Pet. I've had it since my Aunty Gladys passed away and left me a little money, and it always brings a smile to my face.  


The hand that feeds

She knew what she was doing
Gathering discarded plates and bowls, 
Selecting their colour and pattern
Smashing them into sharp shards, 
Long and pointy like the dog's bared teeth
As it nears the hand that feeds it treats. 

Yes the dog is bug-eyed, his nails extend
Wide from all four paws, but he's rendered
In pale creams, soft browns and greys,
His mismatched patches endearing.

His floppy ears and bushy tail held high 
I like to think he's over excited
At the nearness of the treat; 
If he accidentally bites as he grabs it,  
He'll be remorseful, let the other reaching hand
Pat him like the good boy he is. 

© Copyright 2025. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved.

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