Barking Time

On Wednesdays at noon,

if the weather is good,

they test the tornado sirens,

and the dogs on the street behind me

join in, turning their howls

to harmonize, but the test

blasts through a solid minute,

longer than the dogs can

hold out without a breath,

and, one by one, their voices

drop our of the chorus;

but the siren, mechanical, controlled,

trails to silence when its time is up,

while the dogs, being dogs,

will still have their day.

 

Copyright 2018

T. Allen Culpepper

Advertisements

Remorse

At home alone at night,

a drink sounds good,

a chat with a friend online,

but before you know it,

the bottle’s empty,

you’ve talked too much.

The morning after, it’s just you,

quiet from the headache, sad.

 

Copyright 2018

T. Allen Culpepper