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Showing posts from June, 2013

Nesting

                                                                 I sit on the porch out of doors blue heeler beside me in the sun her dusty back rises and falls in far-off dream pant. From the nest she dug earlier, flecks of walnut bark stick to her coat, dull sequins and webbing. My hands make small, idle sweeps across the warm fur. A lone car travels up a side street. Pup’s lazy head periscopes to the sound. Inside, my husband half watches a movie, mutters to himself, soundtrack lonely and calling. Our daughter busy, texts quiet calls, fingers like a modern telegraph operator. It’s Saturday and I have everything and nothing to do. The silence in the yard, punctuated with breeze, lulls me to paralysis at the ankles and full, low-slung gaze. Our bodies bookmark midday before we return to herding.  Excerpted from  The Shape of Caught Water available from Red Mountain Press or directly from the author (505.6