Under the Town - Holly Throsby

Without a sound

My old hound sleeps in the ground

Under the house

Under the town

An arrow is loud

Shivered and stuck in the mouth

And my heart’s an apple — red, round — and you

Shot it out!

You shot it out!

And what do the shot dream about?

A millpond?

A stillborn?

A house?

Where everything sings out?