A Public Sphere for Poetry, Nature, and Politics
You brought her off the road
And laid her on the kitchen
Table – road kill, gorgeous, her pelt
Clean, vigorous, youthful. Under the kitchen
Fluorescent she seemed full of moonlight.
The forest ranger came and examined
Her teeth, her limbs and nails.
We stood silent, respectful. James
Wished to know if she was pure
Blood, or if her genes were
Partly dog. She seemed all wolf
To me and to the forest
Ranger, who carried her off for
Refrigeration. All I knew was she
Was lean and in her prime.
I felt her belly to see if
She might be pregnant. I wanted
So to believe the pine trees
Around us wept in silent mourning.
Copyright Chuck Taylor 2011. From At the Heart (Ink Brush Press)