2 am Wall Crawls and Will Calls by Tricia Knoll
Chewing in east cedar shingled wall.
Fog horn blast cycles, no wind
wipes budding branches
against the cedar shakes.
Brown-soft noises
in fits and starts,
scratching.
In the roof beams, scrape
and rustling.
The dog sleeps no feet running.
At smell of dawn a light sleep
until fog smear thins
and a silver sun spot
tries to lift the morning
I worry yes, rock myself
waiting to pick up this next
day around the corner
with nibbled wiring
foundation holes
open runs in studs where soft
browns climb my walls.
Tricia Knoll is a Portland, Oregon poet. Her work has appeared in many journals with upcoming publications in CALYX, Cirque Journal, Glass, and The Centrifugal Eye. Finishing Line Press is publishing her chapbook Urban Wild in 2014.
Chewing in east cedar shingled wall.
Fog horn blast cycles, no wind
wipes budding branches
against the cedar shakes.
Brown-soft noises
in fits and starts,
scratching.
In the roof beams, scrape
and rustling.
The dog sleeps no feet running.
At smell of dawn a light sleep
until fog smear thins
and a silver sun spot
tries to lift the morning
I worry yes, rock myself
waiting to pick up this next
day around the corner
with nibbled wiring
foundation holes
open runs in studs where soft
browns climb my walls.
Tricia Knoll is a Portland, Oregon poet. Her work has appeared in many journals with upcoming publications in CALYX, Cirque Journal, Glass, and The Centrifugal Eye. Finishing Line Press is publishing her chapbook Urban Wild in 2014.
