Over the fence, & inside this hour’s darkness

the neighbor’s fountain again, this first
sudden of the season, something almost

geological, of the Earth, that water spilling
over to soak knee-high their night

-shaded garden now also hidden from
view by that fence so tall it scrapes

against the lilacs’ branches, claims anything
green private, not-mine, off-limits. Still,

we’ll share street noise, every emergency made
public by the sirens’ frequent passing, that

inevitable, that halting always near. & because
I couldn’t take down what they’d put up &

with such purpose, I talk myself back into other
gardens, those tones of space an openness all mine.

 

 

 

 

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