The Maynard
Fall 2020

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The Narrow Road to Deep Marriage

            We fought bitterly last night, Tiina and I,
I’d tromped dirt into the bedroom,
                        both of us furious, we slept in separate rooms.

            This morning we walk the stairs behind our house,
side by side, in silence, the silence of two tender hearts
                        each carrying a plate heaped with rice and yoghurt and eggs,

            to feed the local feral puppies. It is a hot spring day,
there is a wedding close by, you can hear
                        the women singing and brass instruments.

            Above us two clouds sink into the blue like damaged ships
and the puppies bounce out of the bushes to greet us,
                        creatures tripping out of a legendary world

            of old shoes, chip bags, milk cartons,
bright souls from some opposite shore,
                        kindness glittering in the air like the one bright can

            in a river of garbage. The black dog mother
watches us, tyrant of the brambles, pandemonic eyes,
                        mouth red, leaky dugs. The pups, having eaten,

            loll on the sunlit steps. Tiina holds each tiny dog
a long time, whispering to them
                        in her secret language.