Therapist, mediator, judge,
I type each in my calendar
then walk, a quiet hour before our
kid swap at the attorney’s office.
Each step, I wonder when we
began destroying each other.
The night your eyes
subtly started to wander?
The first time your voice
felt like nails in my head?
I trudge the acorned path, blue
sky suddenly shadows. Red-tailed
hawk, wide-winged, a gray squirrel
hanging like a grimace from its
talons, omnivore head and bristly
tail limp. A second hawk
bullets in, trying to steal the catch
or kill the bird? In battle, the furred
victim spins down, hitting the ground
with a solid thump. I am reluctant
witness, like our child, but I have
power to turn away. One will
win in the end – the raptor who lost
its meal, or the aggressor?
We have both logged miles-
killers, fighters, prey.
