The small box is filled with little beasts—
a barn that’s a barge, a boat—the ark’s
ridged sides like boards, a plastic plank,
a deck that drops in fitted slots, but lifted
reveals that zoo of twos—heaped beasts
to be released beneath a glittering tree,
its dove-clipped limbs. Dad’s asleep
in his reclining seat, and crumpled waves
of paper recede as Mom circles the room.
The humming wheel throws light across the walls.
From Ark (Sibling Rivalry Press, 2016). Copyright © 2016 by Ed Madden. Used with the permission of the poet.