Holding the Sky

Here I am! I call to the sky.

I hold my arms out wide. 

The sky looks down, smiles,

Reaches for me with sheets of rain,

Golden fingers, brilliant blue hands.

I’ve missed you, I say.

The sky is silent, but I feel her tears

Like drops of dew on my cheek.

I don’t know why she’s crying,

But I’ll hold her, don’t worry.

I want to fight 

I want to be a warrior

I want to defeat the enemy

I want to save the people

I want to protect the land

But I want to kill no one

I want to see no blood

I want no screams of hatred

I want no mangled bones

I want no warring armies

A sliver-crescent moon between moving clouds

In the early morning, the kind of moon

Wolves howl at or elves gather under.

Today, then, I run with the wolves and elves

Through the trees and across the plain.

The neighbor next door traps squirrels in cages

And takes them to a park with tall trees

A mile or two away. He does this because

They steal walnuts from the trees

Between his house and the street. 

(He thinks the walnuts are his.)

But the squirrels and I have a plan:

Two raccoons living under the porch 

Slinking along the night-dark streets. 

One coyote in a den on the bluff 

Hunting urban creatures, rats and cats. 

A family of skunks in single file 

A black-and-white parade in the alleyway. 

An owl perched atop the water tower 

Morning, morning.

It’s here, no matter what I say. 

It won’t listen to me

When I ask for another hour of night. 

It doesn’t care if I want more sleep

In fact I think it’s smirking at me. 

“Ha ha!” it laughs. “You look funny

with your hair like that!

Get up! Get up!

Go see the birds in the trees