Animals Can Talk
A deer had gotten his leg twisted in a barbed wire
and tugged and tugged at it.
A giant white gorilla,
like a snow-covered hill
within the forest’s edge,
talked to the deer.
Stars appeared, and he turned the stars
into flapping snowbirds
that the wind blew away into powder.
The deer blacked out.
Something was talking to him
with three heads. No,
they were raccoons.
“I say, you certainly are a lucky one,”
said one with a twiddle of its whiskers.
“What is his name, I should like to know?”
The shaky wind was getting more howl-y,
floating with snow that could be seen
against the blacks of the trees.
When the raccoon family moved a rock,
a yellow light shone out of the hole.
“And why should we help you?”
Even though it was a cave,
it was a house.
“Tell him to eat his meat.”
“Deers don’t eat meat, Mamma.”
“Well,” his mother looked
directly at him, “just what does he eat?”