At dusk, a four-legged high-back

skedaddles along the shore.

He feels my scrutiny,

pauses, tilts and focuses.

We freeze-frame the connection.

He’s checking his mudbug holes

for the stealthy crab-grab

planned under the lamppost-lit

dark.  I’m dismissed; a sunset-seeker

always retreats before his dinnertime.


My father declares

raccoons are dangerous, seriously

in the land where my ancestors

precisely exterminated

wolves, bears, mountain cats,

people they’d dispossessed.

And even though the lake

is stocked with bass and bluegills,

the white egret is rudely

expelled by the newly arrived

heron, descending like a

possessive two-year-old clutching

all of the toys, insisting, “mine!”


Competing for parceled-out pieces

of their homeland

watched distantly

like mysterious figures on a screen

by the new strange species

locked in sterile shells

peering fearfully

at the buzzing mosquitoes,

dimly aware

something is out there.


Inspired by #OctPoWriMo Day 4 prompt “_____and strange animals” and Lamppost

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

One thought on “Separation”

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