by Ute Carson
Wild Things Domestic and Otherwise
Edited by Whitney Scott, Outrider Press, Inc., 2008

No mountain was too high,
Each cliff a welcome challenge,
And ravines tickled my funny-bone.
Until one snowy winter day, climbing up a steep path
And rounding a corner with a huff
I spotted the lynx,
Tufted ears, chunky haunches, ready to pounce.
My courage slithered into my boots,
And I stood still as a statue.
Her eyes held mine,
Gleaming amber-honeyed, confident of her power,
Pulling intuition right down from the sky,
Mine squinting with panic.
Slowly, I breathed movement back into my limbs,
Drawing up energy from the earth.
As my fear dissipated,
The fragrance between us changed,
I matched her strength with my knowledge.
As I respected her space, she acknowledged mine,
Allowing me to retreat calmly,
While watching a magnificent beast
Lick her paws, huge furry snowshoes.

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