To live with Nature, Wild

To live with nature, wild,

bound by its own laws unwritten,

laws above our own, our manmade laws restricting,

you must expect the unexpected visitor

in your home, a mouse or two, unseen

but by his droppings left behind, or the snap

of a wooden trap, baited and sprung,

snapping, his death swift, his body, small

and lifeless, released and thrown, routine here,

into the woods behind the shed, dust to dust

or food for other creatures sharing our space,

the fox out hunting; or the squirrel,

curious, and drawn by warmth and smells

to a small hole barely seen under the eves

or to a dark corner opening hidden but to him,

too small for us to find or even notice,

and crawling in, our larder now is his,

shared in his chewing through the boxes and bags, unopened,

crackers and chips and rice, pasta strewn and scattered,

and caught, now, seen in our hearing him scamper,

a bottle knocked to the floor, unbroken, he is gone,

a phantom fading, his bushy tail all we see disappearing

back through the hole unseen or found and plugged

to bar his return, a futile attempt to stop intrusion,

nature’s intrusion even as we ourselves intrude on them,

force ourselves into a foreign realm, uncivilized,

claiming dominion, establishing order, placing ourselves

here where we don’t belong, out of place, expecting tranquility,

nature’s peace, on our own terms, forgetting

we, too, are bound, as mice and squirrels,

unexpected visitors, bound to nature’s laws, here,

sharing this space, living with nature, wild.