Lindsay B. Sears
My light is not sunlight
My security light
outside my dining room window
protecting the side yard alleyway
separating the front from the back
separating me from my neighbor
has stopped paying attention
to my movements. I stand
at 2 a.m. waving frantically
my arms scaring the moths
away. Seeing the wren pretend
bat-like clamped inverted
to my neighbor’s eave. Seeing
the cast shadow of the anemic
bush on my neighbor’s wall
seem like a more robust version
of itself. My light is not
sunlight. Though it can be
as bright as, but not
when it outshines the night.
I lose sight of the feral
ginger who poops under
the light so he can see
the buried traces of himself
making his way to the unlit
porch where he can eat
the food I leave unexposed.
I bargain with my reflection
If you keep the cat safe, I’ll
If you keep the wren safe, I’ll
If you keep the moths
attentive to the moon
flowers, I’ll
let the bush bloom
like the ones in the front
with their showy snowballs
get the neighbors talking
what is that? they say
but anyway, they’re pretty
My neighbor’s roof disappearing
into the sky. No stars left
winking
at my inside jokes
Posted, (_) Property
A swoop of swallows
perched on oak. Always two
or three at a time and one at a time
taking their turns dining in midair
with their forks flicking in quick twists
and turns and returning
lining the sign sitting perpendicular
to the one that claims there also used to be
elm. In the same way
I suppose there used to be a field
of birch and a grassy meadow with views
of fawn and a secluded depression
two hills and a prairie
that once caught fire
or was made to burn.
(Also known as a gulp.)
There may be some connection
between the myth of the theft of fire
and the way a rufous neck can steal
the sun, a wielded fire that can want
a prairie burned. The view of this place
from nature, reflecting
beyond us and signaling
our presence
posted at every corner.
Lindsay B. Sears is a poet, photographer, and a recent MLA graduate from Auburn University, Montgomery. Her work has appeared in About Place Journal, Metphrastics, Still Point Arts Quarterly, The Shallot, and Yellow Arrow Journal, among others. She lives with her feline and human companions in Alabama.
