is cloud, jonquil, my name is good.
I never wanted to do wrong, I wanted
to do wrong. My name is white bark
of the birch on the path, and oak.
Smoke rises from a chimney. Bottles
of milk in the milk-box by the stoop,
my name is ridge, my name is walk
on the levee, with the curving river
below and beside me. My name
is clover, I lie under the light blue
eggs in the nest of twigs and grass.
My name is cloud, rain in river.
It’s a special day in a special corner
of the world. I didn’t want to do wrong,
more than anything I wanted to do wrong.
The Suffering of Living Things.
What about when it is preventable? What about when it could be lessened
by people coming together?
Who wish to see strays off the streets,
sheltered, nurtured, adopted
to live out their lives with a kind touch.
We can wish and wish and wish.
The thing is to act,
because it’s not impossible, the lessening
of the suffering of those wandering lost,
that could, with a kind touch,
be transformed. What pleasure
in knowing you did that, we did that.
Some will say it’s not much. I disagree.
Peter Mladinic’s most recent book of poems, House Sitting, is available from the Anxiety Press. An animal rights advocate, he lives in Hobbs, New Mexico, United States.
