Rat and Truck

In cool, slightly smoky
Dawn in the village, think
Through the quiet between

A chip truck down the road,
A wood rat on the roof,
On how black holes are full,

Jammed, black masses, really,
Trapdoor spiders in stars,
Occupied by hunger.

The next truck down the road.
Rat scampers on the roof,
Shadow in the maples

Outside the window. Dawn
In a pretty village
With little history,

Far from the predator
That’s anchoring the heart,
Heart so big it’s gone dark.