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Nathaniel Nelson

BPR 46 | 2019

The man had a lawn full of dogwoods.
The man had a lawn full of dogs.
Sometimes the dogs from the lawn full of dogs
would wander the lawn full of dogwoods.
Being dogs, they noticed the smells,
the sound of the rustling leaves,
but not the way the buds unclenched
like little origami fists, petals cleft and darkened
at the tip, as if singed by a match. The dogs would romp
and piss among the fallen flowers, fallen leaves.
The dogwoods, being dogwoods, noticed nothing.
And the man, being a man, forgot to look at either lawn,
forgot to look out the window at all,
noticed instead the butter-yellow smear
of sunlight on the wall, which made him,
somehow, happy and sad at once.