Out by the shed covered in ivy and a thick layer
of moss, the dogs go giddy over some slick scent
along the fence line.  Among weeds, mud, and piles
of leaves that have lost their crunch, a baby mole
wriggles its small, grey torso like a thumb.  The terrier
paws and paws at it, gathers the rodent in his mouth,
and with one quick jerk, tosses the thing across the yard,
playfully pausing to sniff.  I stand and watch,
half-expecting the newborn’s coat to burst
like a red poppy in late spring, but it endures
each blow.  I grab a clay ramekin
to shelter the creature, but when its blind
eyes peer upward, I squirm, and with a heavy
hand I dump it over the fence.  Not until
then I realize I have been sucking
the gums around a molar, drawing blood.



Kyle Gray is a graduate of the University of Tennessee where he studied Creative Writing.  In the near future he plans on moving to Nashville and continue writing, with hopes of publishing a book of poetry.  He is currently listening to “Major” by Fang Island and reading “A Visit From the Goon Squad” by Jennifer Egan. His poetry has appeared in The Pedestal Magazine.


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