Today’s Poem

Trespass

When I stopped his cold heart’s
beating, the tail continued writhing
fruitlessly. Half the length of a full
grown man, he could climb to the tree-
top without disturbing the songbirds
dancing on the bowing branches. How original:
me with seven pounds of wood at the end of a spade
after ten good shots. Which sins do we choose to call
cardinal? He knew the direction of the hollow
spot to enter my basement where the drywall
would rub a new skin out. This is better than sharing
dens with copperheads. Better too than being
caught raiding a bluebirds’ nest. I returned
his head and body together in a brown bag,
sent him home to the forest without
flattery, gladness, or prayer. One of us
is cursed, naked, and venomous.

-Jason Braun