Issue 6
Tracks
in Snow
Why did it stop and go back?
poems on our wild neighbours
by Thad Rutkowski
Geese and Foxes
The geese like to bask on the docks
and stroll around people’s yards,
which makes them easy targets.
But geese on the wing
or geese paddling on the water
are impossible to catch.
The foxes have to wait in driveways,
sharing the space with neighborhood people
until the geese come in.
Sovereign of the Fish
There’s a nest on a phone pole
with two birds in it.
They must be adults, because they are tall
and their heads and necks are visible.
They built a nest here
because a platform was installed
for a large bird that needs a base
for a sizable nest of sticks.
We’re close enough to the bay
for this pair of sea birds to live here.
I think they are ospreys.
One takes off, and its pointed wings
extend in a six-foot span.
I’m sure it is an osprey,
and I expect it will spot fish underwater,
and dive, talons first, to make its catch,
then return to the nest,
repeatedly, throughout the day,
bringing food for its invisible young.
Tracks in Snow
These tracks in snow
mean an animal came toward the house,
stopped, and went back the way it came.
The prints seem to be those of a squirrel:
two small front paws,
followed by two large hind paws.
The placement suggests that the squirrel—
if it was a squirrel—was hopping,
not walking, not loping, not sprinting.
Why did it stop and go back?
Maybe the house had nothing for it,
no nuts or crunchy food of any sort.
Maybe the house door was a mystery.
Opening the knob with a paw wouldn’t be easy.
It would be safer to return to the tree
and climb the trunk with its claws.
Thaddeus Rutkowski is the author of seven books, most recently Tricks of Light, a poetry collection. His novel Haywire won the members’ choice award from the Asian American Writers’ Workshop in New York. He teaches at Medgar Evers College in Brooklyn and received a fiction writing fellowship from the NY Foundation for the Arts. He lives with his wife, Randi Hoffman, in Manhattan.