Old hound walks the treeline slow
Nose down where the shadows go
Creosote posts stand tall and straight
Humming deep at heavy eight
He traces edges pine and wire
Ghost of smoke and burning tire
No master whistle no copper bell
Just the line where shadows dwell
Rain slick on his matted coat
Drips slow on a splintered note
Crossarms carry midnight talk
Static sings on wooden walk
He traces edges pine and wire
Ghost of smoke and burning tire
No master whistle no copper bell
Just the line where shadows dwell
Deer trail crosses under line
Glass insulators catch the shine
Nose up high to scent the wind
Salt and rot where pines begin
He traces edges pine and wire
Ghost of smoke and burning tire
No master whistle no copper bell
Just the line where shadows dwell
Storm broke hard three nights ago
Felled a pine on County Road
Crew came cutting hauling wood
Left the posts where gravity stood
Wires sing a low hymn tune
Underneath a waning moon
He knows the territory mile
Every post by smell and trial
Dawn paints gold on transformer cans
He settles where the shadow spans
No collar jingle no brass tag
Just the line and the pine flag
He traces edges pine and wire
Ghost of smoke and burning tire
No master whistle no copper bell
Just the line where shadows dwell
Just the line where shadows dwell
Low hum on the wire
Pine scent stays
