Wild and Tame

My own image from Provincetown, MA 2015

Originally written in July of 2015.  Revised 2020.

My friend, the squirrel, sits at my feet.

I wonder perhaps should I be sitting at his.

He is tame

Unlike me.

I have peanuts for him.

He knows.

He is willing to wait

And teach me

All the lessons he knows

Of a heart

That is wild

Yet tame.

I marvel at all

That is contained

Within his tiny heart.

The joys of peanuts and sunflower seeds,

Being unafraid in the face of strangers,

And making friends so easily,

Of finding a home among things lush and green,

Knowing no fear to leap

Into things unknown.

Will he instruct me

In the ways to live once again

And move on?

Tell me to remove these rings

Linked to a grief buried beneath grey granite?

Can he share with me the lesson

Of what to do with all things circular,

New and old grief– link upon link of chain?

Teach me the ways of letting go?

The ways of living without fears

To staunch the bleeding of wounds

Both new and so very old?

Is this the meaning

Of being wild and tamed?

5 thoughts on “Wild and Tame

    1. Yes, every morning for 12 days, the squirrel and I chatted and covered intensive variety of subjects until one morning when he decided to jump on my head and sit for a bit.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. M.A.

    I love how this poem begins, with simple short lines mirroring the presumed simplicity of the squirrel’s thinking and yet the tame peace he offers, and then how the lines lengthen as you deepen the emotional resonance of the poem, diving into your grief.

    Sorry if that doesnt make enough sense… I am a little pre-coffee at this point!

    Liked by 1 person

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