Friday, September 18, 2009


squirrel sitting in the shadow of his tail,

begging, with whiskers needling his grey-gold snout,

and eyes, unmoving, like black séance balls.

braking the bike, I surrender to his badge of white

as if to the fatal allure of headlights. fearfully, he looms,

centered between rails, green beams running uphill.

sweating, i shiver.

i imagine the black front wheel

kneading, imprinting its grooves into his lean meat—

do his clenched fists sweat too?

Copyright Xiomara A. Maldonado 2009

Photo Copyright Xiomara A. Maldonado 2008

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