Wild Turkeys

When Ronnie’s husband stepped out of the shower

She spotted bite marks on his buttocks

I was so listless

I wished the dog could talk

The room was frowsty. Then men

Were discussing the legacy of Wendell Willkie

Those little cupids of nostalgia

Fading into doubt...

All that fussing

Followed by a creamy silence—

Oh mother, my daughter said, you’re so ’80s

To winkle out meaning, I’ve given up,

I’m simply nosing through the thistle.

Prudish light of a candle

As night closes with a tail over water

A rufous backdrop of brush.

A clot of gardening tools

When Mrs. Mast took a photo in September

Of a cougar lounging beneath her clothesline

Everyone stopping strolling our lazy road.

Even Jack felt uncomfortable

Smoking a cigarette on the patio

Before retiring