Dingo's Den - The Dingo - Poem

I can see a lean, tan dingo, I can see it looking at me, staring at me, in wonder.

I can see its brown face with its small wet nose, its round, big eyes and its erect ears, listening.

I can smell the arid, dusty scent of the desert as it rushes toward me, carried by the warm wind.

I can feel the gritty sand whipped up by the strengthening wind, hitting both me and the dingo.

I can taste the dry taste of thirst as I trudge on toward the majestic dingo.

I spotted another dingo - the mother. She gathers her pup, and with one final, lingering howl, they vanish into the distance.