Evidence of Things Unseen
Michael T. Young
At first a scratch behind the wall.
Swelling pipes? Then
streamers of insulation
behind the toilet, frayed
carpet threads near baseboard molding.
Refresh the traps, clean out
the old peanut butter bait,
green and hard in the bowls.
Rats take days to grow comfortable
with changes in the room.
But on a rainy night,
when there’s little to feed on, a snap
in the dark. In the morning, I find
the limp, mud-colored
body of our suspicions.
There’s relief, an easing of defenses, Continue reading “Michael T. Young, Evidence of Things Unseen”