Sunday Poem

Among Other Things
The rest
have driven to the mall.
Any second now
will be too dark.

This close to the edge,
among other things,
I read.

Leaves rattle overhead.
Little pockets
of canned applause
slip through
the screened porch
in next door's yard.

by Conor O'Callaghan
from The Sun King
Gallery Press, Old castle, 2013