when i walk outside
the sky is black and filled with stars
and a milky sliver of moon
the dog runs ahead
and finds a corner of the yard
he digs the soft earth
i tell him to stop, but
he doesn’t take orders
from me
i am not the boss of him
he flops down into the small hollow
he has made
content
it’s then that i notice
the wooden fence
that divides my backyard
from my neighbor’s backyard
is missing
there is a track in the soft earth
a line
to indicate where it once was
but no barrier between me
and the unkempt yard
beyond
the dog looks on
sees the neighbor’s min pin
in a chain link dog run
but makes no sound
acting as if the fence is there
solid
and impassible
the entirety of the fence is gone
and I can see into the cul-de-sac beyond
at the dark street barely illuminated by lamps
and the darker still homes
without any lights on
their inhabitants asleep
or hiding
from this lack of fences
you’re standing there
just on the other side of the line
skin luminous and white
like the moon
hair dark and flowing
like shadows cast by clouds
covering the moon
and i reach out
and our fingertips
touch
and the dog scratches his ear
silent
and
content
Words and Feathers 