Poems by Richard Anderson

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Marmot

by Richard Anderson

From Canary Summer 2018

Richard lives in a town trying perhaps too hard to become a city in the middle watershed of the Truckee River.

I open the gate and stop
to see a marmot stopped,
standing, front paws raised
to my deck, ready to climb,
but made motionless by
my motion, staring
as I slowly step forward with
soft words to comfort, to
pose no threat.

An unexpected visit. Chipmunks, yes,
and chickarees, cottontails, gray
squirrels, ground squirrels, raccoons,
pocket mice, voles, a rare deer,
a rarer bear, not, though, some thick furred
cat-sized creature more home on
high meadows, sun-flecked granite.
What are you doing here, surrounded
by paved roads, gardens meticulously
tended, countless dogs off leash.

You are either foolish, fearless,
or desperate.




What the Cat Taught Me

by Richard Anderson

From Canary Fall 2017

The feral rarely speak.
It frightens food and draws
undesired attention.
Wiser simply to listen, watch.
What could be more important
than that whisp of bird song, that
slight rustling along the fence,
the immense enveloping
presence of it all.




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