— Diane L. Moomey
Wild things come down from dry hills
to land on rooves, and a ginger cat
slinks beneath a hedge.
Somewhere in the village, a staple
has worked loose from wire netting. Rabbits,
restless, rustle their bedding and wild things
come down from the hills, take cover
between garage and garbage cans.
On a patio, drip lines curve from pot
to pot. Celadon frogs cross cracked earth
to slide beneath the aspidistra.
Roses vine between houses, black-tailed
deer take refuge. Wild things watch
from the dark beneath porches. Chickens
seek the safety of the street.