Backyard Dreams

The front door wide open
to a sky of windblown birds,
silver wings bent back
the acre of grass is a sleeping
swarm of locusts
Ella sings
In the next room without a body
I am against the wall
I turned the family portrait facedown
When he was on me
What he calls me is not my name
And I love it
Damask chair beside the lion claw tub
Where I pretended to drown

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Ramesh Dohan hails from Toronto, Canada. His poetry often slips into quirky, tender, or profound observation on the everyday, reading and writing, and poetry itself. He was previously published in Boston Literary Magazine (2011), Bywords Journal (2012), Allegro Poetry Review (2015) & Bosphorous Review of Books (2021).

Photo: “Grass and locust tree covered in ice” by U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service – Midwest Region