PLUCK
in the post-rain neighborhood gloom
local cats dart
into unseen seams between yards
where space folds onto itself
darting dark to dark on my walk back
from the packie
i remember a dream
from years ago
where all the women
I have ever loved
are falling softly
down onto me like petals,
as if they all
sprung
from one source,
it has become darker since I set out
the streets narrow and widen
without warning they turn violent turns
without yield
almost squirming
i'm lost
this isn't where i live
or what I want
there is no road-map
for a can of worms
but at least
there is the dark
i feel my keys
in my front pocket
across the street
another cat
stiffens
in the dark looking
not at me
but my front door
