Walt McDonald

The Rockies, Tooth and Claw

Dawn, a dozen finches at the feeder,
a Steller's jay hop-hopping to the trough
Goliath-like to drive them off. Go,
hairy woodpecker waking my wife,

bang the wall, it's dawn. Black squirrel
with trickster's ears, climb down,
teeth first, and spook the goldfinch twins.
I need rich yellow swirls. Hummers, come,

the bottle's full. Suck sugar water hung
just for you after thousands of miles
on the flyway. Graze, mule deer,
drop your ticks. My slopes are yours

and elks' more often than they're mine.
Peck, robins, gobble all that fall,
plump deer ticks gorged with blood.
Come, hungry coyotes, I won't shoot.

Come, frisky town dogs
following a scent too far uphill,
since training and gates can't stop you.
Come, cougars, dinner's here.

EPR #5:
In Spring, the Cedar Waxwings

EPR #3:
What God Felt Like when I was Twelve
Hiking Grizzly Country with Bells


© 2003 Electronic Poetry Review