“Four planets (but no moon) will be visible to the naked eye tonight.”

^{Forbes, July 20, 2020}

The sky is so clean    we can see 
all the gods we’ve negotiated with     Coyotes 
swagger through the neighborhood

unchallenged    Roosters say nothing

The same ambulance lurks on 
our street without sirens every few nights 
and leaves with something 

broken: the veteran four houses south 
who shouts commands each morning while twirling 
his parade rifle     the battered wife 
in the green house across the street     bodies

Lights strobe 
through our blinds     First responders are here again 
When the street becomes dark 
we are brave     We peek out the window

to see Mars’s faraway red glow or to count the dead 
stars