Dogs
May, 2020
Dogs screech at each other
Across the vacant street, their
voices rise hysterical and then
suddenly pause like when my
father bellowed over bridge
games if my mother played
a losing suite and he
barked Dina you’re stupid
and she shrieked
like a dog hysterical while
the aunt and uncle
yapped soothing sounds
which never soothe.
Abruptly the dogs offer
silence filled with cicadas
breathing heavily like
my father while his wife
weeps in the new-found space.
What could she say? We
remain trapped carpeted
with fear and revulsion,
soft as a pandemic
outside the house silent
except for a small child
sobbing beneath the halted
card-game.
2020
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