The Defense Rests

Vincent Hostak

October 15, 2023

Things were and things are.

Things weren’t. Things are not.

I just collect the evidence.

A sparrow shivers in a bristlecone pine

Or does it impersonate the host’s twisted trunk?

A hibiscus grows from a storm drain

Who judges which is the infiltrator?

Long grey pet hairs crowd a black sweater

But my only dog is white and black

They’ve clung to the wool’s ribs forever, it seems

Will all my clothes assemble a new dog?

Coral blossoms escaping a waste are

sturdier than those growing freely

A sparrow’s sleek feathers still quiver

when the bird rests from frenzy.

We’ll meet in many worlds,

But know little of each.

I just collect the evidence.

Vincent Hostak is a writer and media producer from Texas now living near the Front Range of Colorado south of Denver. His recently published poems are found in the journals Sonder Midwest and the Langdon Review of the Arts in Texas and as a contributor to the TPA. He writes & produces the podcast: Crossings-the Refugee Experience in America.