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THEWILDINME
by Aurian Haller

I am the robin dive-bombing
intruders near my nest,
a red streak over their head.
I know how it feels
to have a storm in my bones,
to be small, and wild.

I am last night's raccoon breaking
into the compost like a jewel thief:
with bandit eyes, cool wits in the heat of the heist
past the sleeping dog,
and itchy palms for what's not mine.

Those who say a wolf's howl doesn't echo
haven't wandered the canyon where
the river's sunk underground.
My lonely call laps the granite,
wears it to sand.

I was born in the year of the rat
with a soft spot for bright things,
bits of glass,
a silver spoon I store away for
darker days ahead.

I am a monarch butterfly bound
for Mexico.
Sun compass or hunch,
I move like I've done this before, wings
beating faster than you can blink

I'm gone.

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15y ago

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