Peter Grandbois

Let the record show

I put down my dog today and the world didn’t change, didn’t shift or tilt on its axis. No storms
raged. No cataracts and hurricanoes. The sun remained pinned to the sky. People drove to work or
to do their shopping or wherever they normally go. When I arrived home after, I sat in the yard
beneath a tree, the leaves boxing the breeze, filtering what light remained. A rabbit sprinted across
the lawn. A spider landed on my shoulder and scuttled across my chest. An inchworm moved slowly
up my forearm. The single note of a chaffinch split the day, the lingering resin of pine filling the air.
How easily we are replaced. How easily the world replaces us.

Peter Grandbois is the author of fourteen books, the most recent of which is Domestic Bestiary. His plays have been performed in St. Louis, Columbus, Los Angeles, and New York. He is poetry editor at Boulevard and teaches at Denison University in Ohio. You can find him at www.petergrandbois.com.