Knowing drifting is a process both expected and un-, some
types of animals include lizards, include elephants, include
an amount of pre-thinking to remember that sound travels freely
through an open window, that windows are good enough
and necessary for all. And summer months, we need them most.
With grasses and saplings, eyes adjust to smallness, because
to see them wave or bend gently or peeking at the joints, the green room
has no door one can creep through unnoticed. Others – skunks, raccoons,
squirrels, moths, ants, pinching bugs – these also appear, though their green
may be different, slightly lesser. On night-waking, one’s hinges
hurt, and gloom begins another proposition: the green inside the room
is wavering. Proposition: the bird to appear would be the mockingbird,
sprawled feathers, deep eyes. What do I think of the news it carries? I aim
to make it a tool, broadcast it, even: spray of seed and hope that one or some
will take, and others avoid being eaten by those small or carnivorous predators.
Genevieve Kaplan is the author of In the ice house (Red Hen Press) and three chapbooks. She lives in southern California.