Escaping my window,

I fly with geese over slate roofs,

honk to flocks around me.

 

I creep over trees, a squirrel

hiding in the fearless dark.

 

In the grass I crawl up hills,

flutter locust wings, float

as a lightning bug.

 

My skin is a disguise,

fingers turning into claws,

teeth transforming into fangs.

 

Then I wake up, take garbage

to the curb. A rabbit stands

in the sidewalk, unafraid.

 

A deer pauses near the sidewalk’s

bushes, munching on berries.

I return home.

 

Morning light

stabs me. I feel pinned to a leaf,

a caterpillar in the branches.