Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Ship's Clock Bells

On the mantel a ship’s clock
bells each watch —a single chime
marks half past midnight
six chimes three. By six
the backyard young men
partying all night are gone —
no, they’re still at it though
the baby’s no longer screaming —
is it sick? or worse, alone?
The bullfrog, knowing I watch

from the window above its head
doesn’t answer calls from another
bullfrog deep in the reeds.
Nuthatch is waiting

for feeders I carried inside
the night before — rain be damned
I sandal up to hang them
hummingbird wheels.
The washer spins, the dining

room table shakes, my tea trembles
such fearful asymmetry.

Claw prints on deck boards
chattering & screaming —
how can raccoons afford
to mate in the night?
And w
hat’s a kitten’s secret?

No, I can’t say secret
or heart or frozen ice or melt —
simply care for, welcome inside.

— 20 July 2013

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