March 1, 2012

The Unseen

The dog down the block
keeps on barking,
in spurts of three and four
aimed at nothing,
carried to me on the wind,
meant for me, really,
our secret code about
nothing shared so well,
in answer to my musings
at the window,
wondering why
the unseen moon still rises,
why the sun shines
down on us at all.