After Ellison Park
My dog yawns
the night sky
into fullness,
her slow ellipses
signaling the coming
collapse, a ragdoll
bereft of bones, a
bona fide falling out,
a star collapsing
in on itself,
and the relief,
the just this once, of
bright dawn shuddering,
tucking in the corners
of the day for now
the welcome lull, for now
the catchable cats,
for now chasing down
the street lights of
expansive avenues, and now
for the fences, open.