by Lara Gularte
copyright 2008

Shadows move in
light falls to the ground.
Colors fill up the darkness
clots of red, spasms of purple.
My eyesight dims.
Deer trail sinks into canyon.

When night comes alive
it hums, it crawls.
I can hear the deep dead turn,
see roots bulge up from the dirt.
Eyes shine on me
a wet nose touches my hand.

Unwinged, human
I want to save myself from danger
but with no sharp beak or claws
I can’t protect myself
from hungry raptors
a world that gets up on all fours.

In the open meadow
hooves find ground.
Over and over
animals knock on the earth,
leave no tracks.

I follow a thin moon
find new life
in the dry creek bed.
I move slowly over a log
my legs reborn,
my claws deep in the wood.

Lara Gularte
First published in Bitter Oleander, Spring 2008.

Categories: poem by Lara Gularte