Alicia Hoffman

You probably don't know
there are times I open

the door to our apartment
like a stranger walking

to the living room. I've been meaning
to tell you about the muskrat

that has built a nest in a stickpile
my parents were planning to burn

in the back of their yard.
They are waiting now

for the creek to dry up;
they invite themselves in

before we have any
sense to open the door.