Pedram Navab

CAESURA

There’s something here
in the walls—
I hear it

Maybe just a squirrel
looking for nuts and seeds,
finding its way
into the house,
its hollowed veins

But it’s louder--
a hacksaw
through wood

Sometimes
A guttural chorus--
wild horses,
trapped,
kicking from the inside

Then nothing

It stops all at once,
like a heart
that worked too hard
and gave up--

after beating
so forcefully,
so relentlessly,
all the days
before

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