Author Yvor Winters The branches, jointed, pointing up and out, shine out like brass. Upon the heavy lip of earth the dog &n bsp;at moments is possessed and screams: The rising moon draws up his blood and hair. Tags dog hair moon rose Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments