House Hunting

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Before I moved I heard about the holes.

How cars and people fall off the face

of the earth. Even pools can dive deep down.

I bought the house because of the pond behind

the backyard. I wanted something wild behind me.

Bigger than everything else out front.

The first year took a strange shape. Storms ran

me to neighbors’ houses. I saw black racers stalk

dime sized turtles in the dying grass.

The ibis out back were biding better. Going in groups

to not get lost. The curve in their beaks broke all the

hard things on top. The earth wasn’t easy anymore.

Often its banks were blanketed with softshell turtle

trails. They went under every day to get away. But

they could not make a sound to save me.

After a while I wanted to leave Orlando but I was

lilyed like a stem sprung from the muck. The pond

was drying up. The storks arrived to scavenge and

stay alive.  

Then the news said a man in Tampa turned out

of his dream and into the earth. I went under water

once. Inside me something also must have shifted.

The hole in my ground made me happy. I can’t go

that deep again. I need to stay shallow, sun-up and

ready to wrap roots around my wrists.

This pond is still a place with its heart outside. Rain

pounding down on it for days now. I wonder when

we will fill back up again?