People Next Door

Your neighbor is akin to night.
Crouched in his spot
outside your window
where the earth bows under
the familiar weight of his body.

A predator at prayer.
Whose self-benediction,
a peeper’s wish: A flashing
peek, even if just an ankle.

The prospect charges
a hyena’s snarl, glaring
over the same face he
smiles at you in daytime.

Buried Letter Press – March 2015