by Karen Mandell
Morning haze, tea sipped from stolid mug,
chocolate quinoa cereal munched steadily
like a barnyard bovine. Paper spread out,
an X-Ray. World-sized tumors,
broken bones, pockets of healing,
pockets of pus. The daily.
Then a tapping, a steady beat trudging
ruthlessly. Metronome on? Haven’t played
piano in months, but maybe when dusting,
grudging bit of homemaking…
Not the metronome. Following the rapping,
went out back, beat still steady, louder.
Hello? Ignored.
Woodpecker?
Grumpy human wanted no continued
audio penetration, incantation, irritation.
I barked. Imitation of scary sounds
behind the chicken wire fence
back in Chicago. Long gone
next door guard dog. It worked,
my howl, hound dog style.
Gap in the beats, then sound ceased.
Human trickster. No wonder they hate us.