This Night

The helicopter circles, when it ducks low the windows shake. My dog looks at me wondering if he should flee.

It circles again. A grinding like an airborne lawnmower.

I know if I look out there will be a searchlight. On the streets, there may be police cars. The helicopter threads through the air while I cook dinner. I make sure the doors are locked. I listen to the grinding engine, desperation in the thrum.

I hear the click of my dog’s nails as he seeks his safe zone.

The helicopter continues to shred through darkness until there’s just the chirp of crickets.

9/15/2017

Sascha Darlington