I was stretching in Tompkins square this morning.
Against a tree.
A dog chased a squirrel
Up to my oak.
He spun up around the trunk
Right around, to three feet above me,
Paused and gave a sound
I’ve never heard from a squirrel
“Meerf!”, looking into my eyes
As if to say, “Look at how
I’m being harassed: not fair!”
And so we both look at the dog
So shaggy to me
So cute.
And his eyes
Sad and full and black
Saying
“Gee, I wish I had a friend.”
The oak and I laughed
At the drama these two friends had stirred.
Walking through Times Square this morning,
A different feeling.
I’m seeing the unhoused, the unwell
Their eyes are saying
“Witness me!!”
The words coming out of one of them
A large man with his head stuck-out
And his hood on,
And a scared and scary look in his eyes:
“No, I don’t wanna do that! I don’t wanna!!!”
I actually listened to his words.
He felt me, witnessing him.
And I witnessed others, knowing that was their need.
Did I anthropomorphize,
That dog and that squirrel?
We’re not supposed to do that, right?
Some say it’s deafening nature,
And twisting her, to believe
That an oak can laugh with me.
I disagree, well, in some ways:
Anthropomorphize is the wrong word.
I’m not turning them into men, the “anthro” in the verb.
I’m seeing them as people
As spirits
Animize.
That’s the right verb
I was animizing the doggy person, the fluffy person, and the standing person I was stretching against.
Just as I animized the unseen men and women at Port Authority Times Square.
Ones whose containers are broken.
Beyond Mountains, More Mountains 