scene I:

a squirrel
in the road,
cars whizzing by
left and right,
narrowly missing
the fearless traveler
by the shortest hair
of its bushy tail.

scene II:

a young bird
in a nest,
screeching loudly
as a human child does,
though not for fear
or hunger,
but anticipation;
then leaping into unknown vastness.

scene III:

a caterpillar
traversing a leaf,
the green ground
shifting, swaying,
as the teenage insect
searches for the place,
the perfect place,
for a coming of age.

scene IV:

an ant
building,
laboring feverishly,
driven by pure instinct,
innate obligation—
perhaps love?—
to create a world
it likely will not see.

scene V:

a mantis
praying,
a final worship
to an unseen,
unknown God,
preparing for the ultimate,
honorable sacrifice,
to be unremembered by his brood.

scene VI:

a grizzly
charging through the brush,
a mad fear in her eyes,
in her heart,
as she bull-rushes
the two barrels
that threaten her only child
and will surely take her.

scene VII:

a rebel flag
emblazoned on the
rear window of the truck,
the truck driven by a man
who cares little that
his 7/11 cup now lays by
the side of the road,
or for the journey he just ended.