our own
ray heinrich
the surprise today
was so simple
only the sun and the horizon
a great orange period on a line
not the fluffy words of other days nor drenched in sorrow
but instead
in yellow flowers
like roman legions
stretching out
and my dog
must piss on every one
while i
take everything
as sexual metaphor
coke bottles
and toadstools
and my first love
as we swapped underpants
in high school
as we thought we knew
but really
(in our small town)
were faded products in store windows on main street
(the reds long gone, the blues, holding on)
and it
of course
had better be raining
just a quick thunderstorm
over
and now we're dancing steamed vegetables
your hot potato
beside my peas
and the crows
you tell me
are taking over
haven't
(i say)
they've always had control?
the dog
on the other hand
sits quietly
waiting for the squirrel
in day
and the fox
at night
waiting for that shriek
to dance and cry
with its sisters and brothers
while i
finish TV
and gather up my things
and take him for a walk
outside
the night had waited
then
began with us
and the stars
did their coming
and the scents
evolved
and cradled us on each page
whether walking
and contained
or joyous
and drenched in sorrow
each of us
getting to play the night
forgetting the other stories
it was all
our own
