Outside Tree

Outside Tree

We wintered there
Near the streets where the wrappers
blew toward damp corners
and the air bit like a mongrel
We'd sit at the top of our backyard birch
while our father slept with an empty snifter

When bored, we looked for lost things
Wedding rings, stray cats
and shirts blown from the line
We dreamed white-fenced dreams—
The history we shored up with tiny hands
spilled through like brandy

In the Outside there was no humanity
Nothing to fear or think
Only the orange dusk to drink