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Wild animals, come to the porch
May 13, 2013
to feed me. Oh please me
with your animals,
give your raccoon her mask,
play harp
in the dark, in the dark, in the spider
corners of the porch—
Your fingers!
and the columns, wrapped
in a tangle of yelps
and vine,
bring down the melodious roof.
Oh don’t so admire,
don’t add to desire,
oh weight of desire,
heaviest of moons,
what do you ask?
Rosemary Starace (website) lives in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, a small city in the middle of a big, hilly forest. She’s the author of Requitements and co-editor of Letters to the World: Poems from the Wom-po Listserv, with Moira Richards and Lesley Wheeler. Her work has appeared in Orion, Blueline, Studio, and elsewhere, including other issues of qarrtsiluni.
Categories: Animals in the City
Rosemary Starace
qarrtsiluni 
This is an invitation that beckons me to my own porch. Sigh. It touches me.
Ah, my Ro. They do feed us, do they not?
Carol, thanks. There is nothing like a porch! Crow, they do indeed.
Ugh, I didn’t mean to be anonymous!