The animals have come down from the hills
and through the forests and across the prairies.
They are American animals, and carry with them
a history of their slaughter. There’s not one
who doesn’t sleep with an eye open.
Out of necessity the small have banded
with the large, the large with the large
of different species. When the dark comes
they form an enormous circle.
It’s all, after years of night-whispers
and long-range cries, coming together.
To make a new world the American animals
know there must be sacrifices. Every evening
a prayer is said for the spies who’ve volunteered
to be petted in the houses of the enemy.
“They are savages,” one reported,
“let no one be fooled by their capacity for loving.
