Hunger

If we never have enough love, we have more than most.

We have lost dogs in our neighborhood and wild coyotes,

and sometimes we can’t tell them apart. Sometimes

we don’t want to. Once I brought home a coyote and told

my lover we had a new pet. Until it ate our chickens.

Until it ate our chickens, our ducks, and our cat. Sometimes

we make mistakes and call them coincidences. We hold open

the door then wonder how the stranger ended up in our home.

There is a woman on our block who thinks she is feeding bunnies,

but they are large rats without tails. Remember the farmer’s wife?

Remember the carving knife? We are all trying to change

what we fear into something beautiful. But even rats need to eat.

Even rats and coyotes and the bones on the trail could be the bones

on our plates. I ordered Cornish hen. I ordered duck. Sometimes

love hurts. Sometimes the lost dog doesn’t want to be found.