Poetry

Mutuals
by Tim Moder
The rock that drops into the pool is me.
I am the ripple over sweet summer seas of glass
and fields of grass with salamander sweat glands.

The fish that darts furtively is me.
I am the protective ledge shelf
where bold sharks hover, free from fear.

The arrow flying over the grass is me.
I am the arched-back hunted buck
bounded over fallen swamp brush,
with thunder, evolution.

The mouse that rips moth cloth is me.
I am the hedge shelf protective thicket
where juvenile grouse hide, ripe with ease.

There is nothing that
keeps itself from me.

There is nothing
that will not become me
as I become it
in mutual selection.