Next to Us: Sonnets, Divided
All day behind our houses, bulldozershave knocked down the tall oaks, the hickories, the poplars with their orange-and-lime cups suckling spring bees. Finally they’ve brokenfor dusk. The windows I walk past are lit with end-of-day succor: glimmers of ice clinking whiskey, a blade unsistering the tender flesh of salmon from its skin,from a basement window, …