Backyard Identity

I asked but you wouldn’t say
or maybe you were hard to hear
over the train horn staccatos
and the frantic Fillmore firetruck siren
and the always hovering police helicopter

I asked but you wouldn’t say
or maybe you said it like the sound
of shoes crunching on gravel
or a curve-billed thrasher in the dead oak tree
or the jazz ensemble five blocks away

I asked but you wouldn’t say
or maybe I shouted this time
over the neighborhood gun shot pop
and the karaoke from the quinceañera
and the garbage truck fumbling a dumpster in the alley

Screw it! Why did I ask you anyway?

I took my dog on a path, walking
and maybe all the sounds transformed
to a hushed, gentle whisper and
I couldn’t make out the words, I leaned in close
feeling your breath and an exhale…

“You are a Transformative Path-Walker.”