The Wild

Tonight the world is wild
and I am wild like the rabbit,

the red-faced fox, the trembling
field mice. When the summer rain

taps on the roof top like needles
hitting aluminum, I am rain;

a small grain of something
is the skeleton of everything.

And then, the architecture
of owls, wings are opened,

feathers turned out, the body thrown
on the wind in a wild, wild ride.

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