The guinea fowls’ cries brought me reluctantly awake.
The smoky thread of a grey fox
Insensate. A digger pinecone, big as a football.
Fish & Game was tongue-tied.
Ma in the garage, 3 dogs, the cat, all eyes.
The fox back and forth, back and forth. An episode of teeth chattering.
Fireman John, after the wrong chicken houses, perturbed neighbors and a pool scoop.
A paroxysm
2 shots
“Have you got a shovel?”
Limp; hair soft as clouds. The bright smear on the blade of the shovel.
The rest of the day disturbed. Unsettled. Misaligned.
We know so damn little about where we live.
mr. fox!
ReplyDelete