Squirrels and small birds look for seeds
and pine nuts in the grass out back.
I’m not used to all this preparation
for winter. This morning my husband went out
with the trash and saw three raccoons
curled up like cats in the dumpster.
Our first night here a raccoon sat
on the fence in the parking lot
levitating like the Cheshire cat. I
thought he might well be a symbol
of resilience, like Lowell’s skunks.
We went down to the Huron River
in the rain. The reflection of the turning trees
on the water—the reds and greens on the ripples
in the diffuse light—three swans and one goose
drifting on its muddy surface.
Not one of us is a trespasser here.