Wednesday, February 23, 2011


I found a feral child in the yard
while culling weeds and tending
to a dog's grave.

       I was surprised to see it cuddled
       round the oleander roots
       seeding the soil with its toes.

And I, who put the dog down late;
he who shoots the air gun at the cats,
      who sprays the crab grass


will move the boy, tonight, to
a neighbor's yard, and pinch
his toes into their garden's bed

      before he learns his labor's

           lost on me.