A juvenile Cooper's Hawk perches
on our lawn chair.
He swivels his head toward a piercing sound
and silently flaps into our magnolia.
The squirrel leaves bits of fig on the ground
and remnants of daisies on our outside table.
A Black Phoebe flies in, swoops between our pond,
table, and pear tree, snatching noseeums on the fly.
Raccoons at night, unable to catch a pond fish,
chew on lily pads and flowers.
A red dragonfly bounces her abdomen
on the pond water, laying her minuscule eggs.
Hawk piercing calls, squirrel tracks, raccoon tracks,
phoebe and dragonfly sightings.
How little I know of the ways of the wild ones.


© by Erle Kelly.
Used with the author’s permission.