Wild Things

The trail led from the woods
to the bank at the ocean’s edge
where the young fox stood
sniffing the sea air.

Then up the shore road
to my neighbor’s house
where handouts wait
for all young creatures of the cove.

“Why not the squirrels? Why only birds?
The foxes and raccoons are hungry, too.”
At dusk the wild things come
at his soft invitation
to share his bounty and good will.

Lari Smith