Season of Drought
Will Harris
He is startled from sleep by hooves
too heavy to be where they are,
and rushes to the window in time
to see it—a young elk buck skating
unsure across the asphalt road,
watching its own legs in fright,
driven across the black gulf by hunger.
Then another. Then another.

And suddenly a pattern emerges—
Mac the Moose, 500 miles off course,
enjoying his newfound celebrity
among the digs and early wildflowers of Monument, Colorado.
The lynx stares at him in the front yard,
the spent rabbit in its mouth.
Ferrets, now wild, scramble past his feet
down holes after any prey;
black squirrels, antelope, bighorn sheep in the foothills,
bears splintering garage doors for dog food,
early bloom and less rain.

Within their proper boundaries, humans make love,
curse, water their lawns, build
as though their future holds little doubt.
Will Harris's articles and poems are forthcoming or have been published in African American ReviewCollege Language Association JournalColorado-North ReviewEleventh MuseMELUSNEBULAVoices in English (United Arab Emirates), Wascana Review, and The Zora Neale Hurston Forum. He currently teaches English literature and resides in Al Ain, United Arab Emirates. 

more by Will Harris:
The Clearing