Dusk
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What are those animals
lurking in the weeds
beside this winding
darkening two-lane through
the Cherokee reservation?
Maybe they’re huge llamas.
Donkeys. Oxen or asses.
Mutant horses, shaggy
and woolly. I’m amazed
at my ignorance. I couldn’t
tell you the name of that
tree, that flower, that car
coming toward us over
the double-yellow line,
white lights bearing down
on our own animal natures.