wieldy

SHED

by Kenneth Pobo

 



I stand between Annette's



and Mike's houses. She yells



 



over the fence, "You think



I can't see those fires you set



in your basement? HA!"



and slams her door. Mike



fires back, "Shut up, bitch,



who listens to you?"



and slams the door. I want



 



to make peace. Starlings



and morning doves often



share my roof. A maple leaf



eats lunch with an oak leaf. 



 



When Annette and Mike volley



insults, my wood aches—



 



nothing to do but hear



words fly. A mower



weeps inside me.