Poems by John P. Kristofco

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Animals in the Yard

by John P. Kristofco

From Canary Spring 2017

John lives in the Lake Erie watershed, Central Basin, about ten miles east of the mouth of the Cuyahoga River.

as if we were Saint Francis,
we crouch down on one knee to summon them,
think they’ll come for comfort, love,
share some common soul----
in twilight backyard after dinner,
Eden with no tree;

but they stay back, watch
as quiet fills the space,
and we sense it isn’t Disney after all:
they stare as if they’ve seen the films:
Orwell’s, Hitchcock’s,
that business at the beach,
and they move with DNA resentment
for “dominion” and “subdue;”

the breeze grows chill;
we scan the yard, the sky,
arise uneasy as an alley walk at midnight,
and back into the kitchen
where we watch them
from the window in the place
they knew we came from
all along

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