about this time every year

the squirrel said you can never have

enough nuts to the owl. the owl said

nothing. a passing bear went about

looking for berries. we carved our

initials underneath birds and bees

doing what birds and bees do. i

counted his tattoos. divided them

between love and hate then kissed

each one. he traced my hairless

chicken skin and offered me his hat.

we built a fire of dry wood and wet

leaves. smoke rose as morning fog

waited on the sun. he respected me

with his smile. unlocked my treasure

chest of pearls. pierced my flesh

with sticks and stones. honored me

with rice and tea. i challenged him

with an empty brain and shared

tobacco with eagles flying high.

spirits blew through a hollow canyon.

breezes chanted over tops of trees.

tomorrow it may snow. i may fall for him.

a squirrel can never have enough nuts.

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