by Chris Dollard

I saw nutria swimming in a pond
across the street, like squirrels with skinny tails—
their shadowed pool beneath the new guardrails
and ramp off the highway that split the pond
from the river. Trash blows around, beyond
our sidewalk and up against the fence, but they’ll
still build a nest along the bank, curtailed
by traffic, muddy sticks upon the fronds.

At least the fence could keep the trash away
from them, but not on windy days. The trucks
keep passing overhead, their lights ignite
the rodent’s eyes; they eat our castaways
from the coffee shop, swimming in the muck
between the busy ramps and streets at night.

CHRIS DOLLARD was born in Montville, CT, and raised in South Kingstown, RI. His work has appeared in The New Verse News and The North Central Review. He is also the poetry editor for Shoreline, the Rhode Island College literary magazine, and lives in Providence.