watch the socks
by t. zoey benally

every now and then i would hold my breath
silence lung bellows, ducts near ear quiet
tilt my head like my dog Pointer to hear
catch a stumbled foot placement
tumbleweed crackle, sun waves disrupted

mama said lay out the socks
heels and sole to the sun
it made my feet tingle warm
to see those white socks hung
from the garden fence to dry
i knew the rusty spots, orange octagons

i caught one once, heard his labored lungful
ran out and yelled like i yelled at dogs
bent on killing rabbits, chickens, kid goats
droopy eyes & lips, saggy chin & stringy hair
silver paint had dried on his upper lip
surprise no longer a reaction, burned neurons

sniffers daddy called them, they laid
on the hill where the rocks were smaller
skin colored dirty penny by solar rays
bright acrylic specks splattered
spilled from stolen socks
white socks, primary colored splats