Plotting Escape
I plot. The moment my owners' eyes
turn away I will run through
the yard under the fence. Across
the park and across the street I’ll hide
in the open field. Plan freedom’s course --
Tomorrow, run to the edge of the horizon
where mountain and sky meet at a point.
Chase the sun into its hole. Steal
a finger of its fire for night. Keep it in
the hollow of a Joshua nearby and sleep
under thickets of desert sage.
Don’t stir 'til the wild rooster breaks morning
silence. Do not even open your eyes 'til
the sun peaks its bright head out
of its eastern hole, itself looking
for escape.
Your days are of your own making.
Nibble on earth’s natural delicacies -- wild
rye, bluestem, bottlebrush, sweetgrass--
and drink the dew from any blade.
Chase lizards and squirrel just for fun.
Nap anywhere under sky’s blue dome.
And if by chance a fox hunts
use native rabbit magic. Cast spells --
play dead with rotting flesh, transform
into an old woman cooking stew, become
a wise medicine man, then run circles
round a dead tree. Make the fox believe
you are the tree and watch him chew you
down believing you are the dry bark and wood.
Giggle yourself to sleep and dream-– Find
the Fates. Thank them. For you are alive
today and you are free.
(c) Michael Parker. March 2005.
