From “Listen to the Golden Boomerang Return”

            our first lightning
          strike was convulsive
         we felt sad for our
       violence after
      wolves and bison
      we do not need a
       doctor to say
        dance dance 
         dance before
           the song 
             runs out
               learn how
               to live so
        we put them
      in parks to be
    wild on purpose
  a museum of fur
fangs and hooves


Copyright © 2023 by CAConrad. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on May 29, 2023, by the Academy of American Poets. 

About this Poem

“My poems are wild creatures standing on the bottom of the page, vibrating in the center of their bodies, and this one is from 72 new poems I began in Seattle during the Covid lockdown. I shared my meals with the crows by the window. One of them, in particular, liked to eat with me. I could hand it food and was eventually allowed to pet its beak. Soon enough, the crow started bringing me gifts: twigs, plastic bits, dried cat food, and a piece of gold foil. This experience was one of my favorite connections with a wild animal. This poem is from my forthcoming book, Listen to the Golden Boomerang Return (Wave Books, 2024).”