dogs protect yards of forgotten-dream debris, projects
faded in sunlight, rusted metal scraps that one day
will come in handy. a child’s overturned plastic dump
truck intertwined bent wire of what was once a house
for chickens. the sound of the holler, bloated buzzing
of bugs, shrieking of mating frogs in murky bog water,
little red birds speaking to each other in urgent tones.
deep gusts sweep the skins of the tall thin trees that
stand like soldiers to the sky, wind electrifying the air
as if, any moment, thunder will break the earth apart.
Jeanette Quick lives in San Francisco. Her work has been published in Ghost City Review, Rat's Ass Review, The Curious Element, The Bright Line, Penumbra, The Tax Lawyer, District Lines, and the American Banker. She has earned residencies from OBRAS Portugal, Elsewhere Studios, Art Farm, and Sundress Academy for the Arts. She holds a Jurisdoctorate from Georgetown University Law Center and a Bachelor of Arts from University of California, Berkeley. She regularly contributes theater reviews to DC Metro Theater Arts.