Unhooking Clover
from her leash I realize the fresh air fluffs
off the odor of dead fish
Where would she find a fish?
There are no lakes, no streams, no ocean nearby
only a dried-up river
Perhaps a fish swam up through the drain, seized
its chance as drought deepened
swam up a sewer pipe, sort of like salmon
Maybe that is why last night Clover peered
into the bathtub
ears expectant.
