Jungle Gymnastics

It is another hot muggy day.  I sit in the air conditioning.  Outside the morning activity in the back yard picks up.  I think I will take the turtle for a spin in the warm today.  He loves weather like this.

Outside

The entire back yard

Has morphed

Into jungle gymnastics.

One squirrel has found a stick.

It amuses him entirely.

He throws it in the air

And catches it.

Another squirrel

Lures him away.

They leap and chase up one tree

Down another,

Then

Back to the stick.

A chipmunk has found

The perfect rock

To survey his tiny world

In the sun

With chipmunk eyes.

Yesterday a bunny rabbit

Claimed the middle of the lawn

As his,

Chewed grass,

Cleaned his ears with his front paws

Almost exactly

Like the cat.

In the obstacle course

That is my back yard

The animals are amused.

Sometimes at night

We hear raccoons scream,

Or even catch an opossum waddle

On its tiny possum feet.

He bares his teeth

If he sees us.

My wild things (for Maurice, may he rest in peace)

R.I.P. Maurice Sendak.

My wild things no longer inhabit

An island available only

By boat

At night.

Now they gather for milk and cookies.

Now they share meals in the warmth

Of the house.

My wild things

Play card games and board games

And Scrabble and completely

Made-up games,

When they are not eating,

in air-conditioned coolth

At the sun-bared height

Of summer.

My wild things skip and slide

down the hall,

Leave their shoes in piles,

Or forget and track in mud

On the white tile floor

After the rain.

My wild things

Make life

More interesting.

They are not available only at night

By boat.