The Same Dog
I listen to the same dog
every night though I never
see it in the light. Neighbors
deny it’s theirs or even
hearing it. You know, I say, mostly
after sundown, sometimes early
morning? Part growl, part bark?
No, they say, no idea what you’re
talking about. Animal control
no longer responds.
On calm evenings, it seems
a distant howl. In the storm,
I hear its whine right under
my window between crashes
of thunder. Nights aren’t sleepless but
I dream of nails pounding
in irregular rhythms, horns
on beasts that shouldn’t
have horns, tails on people
who shouldn’t have tails. Eyes
everywhere.
Then one night (around mid-summer
when it never really gets dark, the light
only dims and simmers): the barking,
the growling, a whimper, silence.