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Wild Turkeys
When Ronnie’s husband stepped out of the shower She spotted bite marks on his buttocks I was so listless I wished the dog could talk The room was frowsty. Then men Were discussing the legacy of Wendell Willkie Those little cupids of nostalgia Fading into doubt... All that fussing Followed by a creamy silence— Oh mother, my daughter said, you’re so ’80s To winkle out meaning, I’ve given up, I’m simply nosing through the thistle. Prudish light of a candle As night closes with a tail over water A rufous backdrop of brush. A clot of gardening tools When Mrs. Mast took a photo in September Of a cougar lounging beneath her clothesline Everyone stopping strolling our lazy road. Even Jack felt uncomfortable Smoking a cigarette on the patio Before retiring