Inside a cage the dog snarls
and snaps, even the air is torn.
Inside the house the man’s voice
is a bed turned over by cops.
They find nothing but their own anger,
some old tissues. They leave the place a mess.
You want to investigate silence.
It’s Tuesday, the sun is a newly
opened can of mandarin
slices,
though it’s never hunger that wakes you.
You step outside, listen for a daffodil
pulling on its yellow slicker,
but cannot hear a thing. After a while,
you learn to feel for the rain.
__________________________________
From Dolefully, A Rampart Stands by Paige Ackerson-Kiely, published by Penguin Books, an imprint of Penguin Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. Copyright © 2019 by Paige Ackerson-Kiely.
Paige Ackerson-Kiely
Paige Ackerson-Kiely is the author of two poetry collections, In No One's Land and My Love is a Dead Arctic Explorer. She is a generalist and lives in Peekskill, New York.
