I can tell you                 the plants are over
grown                yesterday the neighbor man removed a dead
beaver in our shared alley          a mile east
of the river       the river walk  the river runs
here the plants,            heavy with themselves,
posture like this           the beaver,        dead,
was pointing     west    I think it must
have been a beaver                   its size said so
after the first day         a buzzard          followed by the man
followed by a dark patch of pavement               this morning
I fix my face at the window       the window ac
rattles no aubade          the death bird   not here,           not gone
I could be         heavier with life
I could be a paperweight           I could be a henchman
cutting back the foliage             the excess of green
here it is!          here it is!