Night Songs
(for M M)
We walked your neighborhood summer
nights. Porch lights and lightning bugs hovered
over lawns, while in your mom, in your kitchen,
sipped rum-and-Diet-Cokes, sang with
Barry Manilow records around a cigarette.
I never learned to give without taking, did I?
Walking, occasional dogs barked from front
window curtains or lawn chains. Sun blushes
young girls’ skin pink like Avon lip-gloss,
moonlight icing it back white. Once
someone left a nice red chair at the curb.
You dared me to sit in it. At the front door, your
dog, Mandy, waited for us. She was softer
than all the dogs I never had. Occasional cars
passed in the night. Your above-ground pool—
water up to my chin—was warm as night cooled.
I write poems of old things my brain still sings.
Along my sidewalks dogs smile without us.
Kerry Trautman lives in Ohio, USA. Her work has appeared
previously in Hobo Camp Review as well as numerous other
journals and anthologies. Her books are: Things That Come in Boxes (King
Craft Press 2012,) To Have Hoped (Finishing Line Press
2015,) Artifacts (NightBallet Press 2017,) To be
Nonchalantly Alive (Kelsay Books 2020,) Marilyn:
Self-Portrait, Oil on Canvas (Gutter Snob Books 2022,) Unknowable
Things (Roadside Press 2022,) Irregulars (Stanchion Books
2023,) Things to Say When You Have Nothing to Say (Roadside
Press 2026,) and Days of Bees (Dancing Girl Press, 2026.)
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