The Zoo Inside My Head

Words, wild and domestic
make me their natural habitat,

a ruby throated hummingbird
and Grandma's bleating goat,
its newest kid born at midnight,

and a black rabbit named George,
who walked on a leash, and oh,

our geese who daily assaulted
my mother, a woman with secrets.
We should have heeded those birds.

On safari in my mind, I track
elephants, lions, and great apes,
but need no native guards.

These wild and household things
devolve to words and I am
grateful for their presence.

One response to “The Zoo Inside My Head”

  1. I wish I had known mother’s secrets when I was 40 years. So, I don’t have to dream about them in my 70ths. It doesn’t go away. And yet without her I would be less than I am.


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