Some bridges, like cats, arch up from a long wary sleep and plant their paws shore to shore…

Down every avenue, hunched
in a doorway is the shadow of fear.
Call it. It will come like a cat…

If I am slow enough, quiet enough, long enough…

To do poor well, take down granny’s black skillet…

it is up to the swallows…

…It takes a trunk full of chickens
to top the tank,…