The Wildebeeste at Little Pine Island Lake

I don’t like cats,
they play with their food
said I as I filleted

the bluegills we had
harvested. Hah! replied
my newly acquired

sister-in-law, and what
do you think
you are doing?

Such lovely ingratitude!
I had to remind
myself that her cat

was dying, and had
the grace not to point out
that it was I

who had given her
and her mate my brother,
pilgrim though he may be,

the poles they caught
those bluegills with
as a wedding present and was

preparing them sumptious repast
including the hippy’s corn roasting
in husk over coals

from birch and pine harvested
on my own land.
I loved her and forgot

all my resentments against
him and embraced
both her and a preternatural

sense of our destinies, and
bowed gratefully as
his new sister-in-law

pronounced a heartfelt blessing
on our repast and I hoped that we all
might live forever.

(San Francisco, 9/19/06)