Madame Collector And The Tri-Color BeagleThe daughter had no datum point, her pet's
nose drew in hues of dander. He was keen
to the young lady who wrote with a pen
admiration of paths yet worn by human treks.
The pair found creeks to walk in as they checked
cobbles for stoned cortex to tumble a clean
clear luminescence found in the seemingly
machined chert points the two also collected.
Without an azimuth they walked; observed
the outdoor sonnets some may claim relics,
like square nails, white ware, even pull top pop cans.
Relics that are still found but just cursed.
The two walk past and leave these like goat's milk
curdling in the brown and black woodland.