John Smith
The Neighbor's Dog
If you fall asleep to geese chortling with the moon,
the neighbor's dog will shame you with its barking.
If you fall asleep to rain playing the tin roof
like black keys on a toy piano at the bottom of a lake,
the neighbor's dog will shame you with its barking.
If you can't sleep, it's probably the barking.
No aria there.
Nor is the bark staking a claim, heralding a friend
or the moment.
It is by no means a transcendent chant.
Eyes, teeth, and cyclone fencing glisten with rain
in the yellow porch light.
Each accusation snaps at the wind.
Bio
John Smith has published poetry in magazines such as New York Quarterly, The Literary Review, The Journal of New Jersey Poets, Paterson Literary Review, and Slant. He lives in Frenchtown, NJ.