lifts off from a branch
in my neighbor's tree,
beating across
the small patch of sky
between one Home, Inc. house
and another.
Our chickens are oblivious,
safe under their netting.
I mention it to the dog.
She stares down from the deck
to the backyard below,
looking for a groundhog.
“Nothing there,” she says
with her eyes.
We stand guard for awhile,
knowing our demons
are sure to return.
-vh
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