he keeps the windows closed tight
except on rare spring or fall days
when he might crack one open
but not for long
because before too long
there’s a leaf blower blowing
loud dog barking
criminal trying to get inside
music from next door a-playin’
basketball a-thumping
amateurish guitarist a-strumming
and a crow in a magnolia tree squawking
so the window is shut
all the blinds are closed
so no one can see inside his house or soul
it’s cool and dark
he reads some poetry on his phone
lights some incense and closes his eyes
and prays that delta flight 471
doesn’t mistake his house for runway 27R
as he hears it on approach
tray tables locked and seats in an upright position
