Heavy Feet

 

We looked for something big and found a fish bowl

Guppies dive the wreck and hide the window

From that trodden path through sedge and ragweed

To the house next door that shakes with heavy feet

 

They’re small and gray; we never give them names

When one floats up, we keep their count the same

Some five new cars will leave the curb by dawn

We’ll only see where footprints pressed the lawn

 

And mornings when their fingers part the blinds

And the seven, nine, ten eyes search for mine

I sprinkle brine shrimp on the water

And hope that last one is the father

 

 

Steven Ray Smith