Night
fear wells from a bottomless spring
and anxiety swarms like
cicadas covering the sky
chirps deafening.
Three watches split the night.
In the first, the donkey brays.
In the second, I listen with the dogs
to the planes swooping overhead
the distant sirens that threaten
to grow close and loud.
Patter through the house.
Check the windows.
Turn off the lights.
Listen to the kids breathe.
Watch their chest rise and twitch.
Listen to their dreams
that whisper
of vanishing.
Check the doors.
Even as you know how easily
this house can all be flipped
shaken like a laundry basket
contents crumbled and dirty on the floor.
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