Alan: Living in the country, we have all kinds of neighbors. Some drop by for the occasional visit. Some don’t get along. Mostly we all accommodate, but not always.
Territory
When the bear walked off
with the open can of sardines you’d put down
just for a moment,
you didn’t stop him.
When the bear, browsing
along the shore, left tracks
like welcome mats across the mud,
I didn’t follow.
We figured the bear came with the territory.
The coyotes, too, and the fisher,
the deer, the moose.
When we arrived, they made room.
We leave them be.
One day the trapper went by in his car.
Our neighbor said a bear was stealing sheep.
A bear didn’t come with the territory,
not in his book.
It feels a lot smaller, now –
the neighborhood, the territory –
all those sheep, and no bear.
Nancy: I've wondered whether – if I were on the ship – would my shore appear to hover? Would I float inverted in the sky?
August: Archipelago
Islands rise
drift off
hang in the air
disappear
Lavender haze
a white ship
above it another ship
like the islands
inverted, paired
Cloud-mountain sky
white mountain sea
terns dive
the sea-mountain clouds
shiver and break
Island to headland
white ship below
white ship above
in the air
on the horizon
white ship above
white ship below
“Territory” first appeared in Living on Salt and Stone (Stone Man Press, 1984).
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