Our Neighbors, on February 7, with a High of 63°
Abbie Kiefer
They’ve filled the little yard
and more keep coming, carrying
Frisbees and beer, wearing
bare skin for the thrill of sun
and being seen. They’ve perched
lawn chairs on the snow bank,
lit the grill, and the door
keeps slamming, people
in, people out, the tumbledown
porch straining to contain
the current. They’ve propped
speakers in the window
and when Satisfaction starts,
right from the nah nah
nahnah nah, everyone’s
singing along—I can’t get
no! I can’t get no!—yelling
in unison with relish,
even if lippy Mick is a fool
to think he lacks for anything
on a day like this.
Abbie Kiefer’s poems are forthcoming or have appeared in The Cortland Review, december, The Penn Review, The Comstock Review, and other publications. She lives in New Hampshire with her husband and sons. Find her online at abbiekieferpoet.com.