Monday, November 25, 2013

surprise at the chicken house

Wild Thing

last week I found an unfinished tunnel by the hen house
larger than a mole would make;
I gathered rocks from the dry creek bed
to cover the hole, to thwart the invader.
Last night, late from hearing Wendell Berry,
I strode out to shut the chickens.
It was pitch
at the corner of fence and house
where the tunnel mouth had gaped.
But I thought a hen huddled
and I reached out to retrieve her
but my fingers grazed coarse fur,
so I bent down to peer closer: opossum!
I repelled, disgusted, yet slowly delighted,
I had just touched a wild thing.


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