Thanks in Florida

for the amiable sharing of the yard
between our rescue dog
now settled in a year
and more birds than I’ve ever
lived among
returned and filling my morning
with what no one seems to want
anymore in poems
the pwu-pwu and
the put put put put put put put
that puts me in mind
of a boy’s laugh
when no one’s watching

also the woodpecker’s ghostly headbanging
and a chut chut chut
and a whootoo whootoo swooping
to the grass peppered
with seeds and whatever
keeps sampling my ankle blood
when I clear toys from the lawn

and how soon the cicadas
will turn the yard into
a substation
before dropping like spent dates
which the dog loves
each crackling body a 9 volt lozenge with wings
she gentles in the fore of her mouth
so her lips ripple

Sirs and Madams
mourning dove pecking near the foot of our porch
finch nonchalant three feet further
opossum somewhere beyond the fence
dreaming tomatoes
and skinks tucking tighter
in the shrinking lines of siding shadow
by making this springtime yard
temporarily so near Eden
you have made me happy
though my happiness
is never the purpose
strut all you want
I’ll hold so still

David Thacker is a PhD student in poetry at Florida State University and holds an MFA in poetry from the University of Idaho. A recipient of the Fredrick Manfred Award from the Western Literature Association, his poems have appeared in Best New Poets 2015, Ploughshares, SubtropicsThe Massachusetts Review, and elsewhere.