FAUNA
Where do those fat birds
find all the food they need
to maintain their avoirdupois?
And their pixie chicks hopping happily
in search of what will make them one day
grow up to be plump like mama and papa.
Nothing mournful about these doves.
I often wonder what shelter they find,
these many birds that line the telephone wires,
when it rains, or where they sleep at night,
and where do they go when they die--
I mean their bodies, not their souls?
I don’t ask that final question about the many mammals
and rodents who never learned to look both ways before
they cross the road, lying there dead now in the middle
of the street. I know I should feel sorry for them, but
somehow I don’t because they look so peaceful like my
mama did in her beautiful, white coffin trimmed in gold.
April 6, 2003
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