Knotted Guts and Plaster

by Greg Keeler

In the night, someone took
the cushions from the couch

on the porch and used them
to sleep in the storage shed.

Life here alone understands
such necessity in spring

winds. A friend's new cat
ran off in the night looking.

for her old home miles away.
So where do starlings go

in sleep? Do they dream
their scattered lives back together?

Some nights I lie awake with
knotted guts and plaster between

my pulse and the Milky Way,
mourning lost brothers and sisters.

–

from A Mirror to the Safe