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