cross raze last night i stood and watched him through the upstairs window that lets all the ants in. our sight lines converged, and he took in the strangeness of my shape while i considered the mystery of him. i would have made my trunk an unvarnished cross and walked to the other side of the avenue, but he doesn't know me well enough to call me a friend yet. after he felt he'd seen enough of me, he ran beneath a black truck and the connection was broken. he visits my backyard sometimes, but he doesn't stay long. even if he won't let me get too close, it brightens my day each time i catch that dark swirl with the cinnamon tail searching the sod for some small bit of sustenance. 220512 what's it to you? who go blather from