Where the wire fence meets the pointed slats
of a wood stockade, a rusted corner
dog-eared by the weight of thirty years
From their tireless migrations
across back-to-back suburban yards,
rutted trails weave behind garden sheds
and rows of ornamental cedars--
caution bends the only curves in their straight
line to the five and dime, avoiding dogs
and wives in bathrobes who scold from back porches.
Guiltless animals relentless and convinced
of the logic in their geometry,
they practice trespassing on weekends
and after school, for now their only concept
of property confined to the paper bag
each culprit clutches, filled with candy.
Kevin Casey’s work has appeared recently in Rust+Moth, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Gulf Stream, Chiron Review, and other publications. His chapbook “The wind considers everything” was published last year by Flutter Press, and the full-length collection "And Waking…" is due later in 2016 from Bottom Dog Press. For more, visit andwaking.com.