Aubade 9

My family is gathering the groceries.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving,

and they want to be prepared.

Out of the corner of my eye,

I catch of glimpse of the cat

silently stalking a killdeer.

Can Henry die?

Can he make a sound?

Weak sunlight struggles

to pierce the interior gloom.

Phantoms move swiftly

upon ancient floorboards.

From my position on the patio,

I watch as a group of birds

circle a particularly dense

spot of timberland.

My infant child is crying

from inside the house.