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
