No human ever lived alone, not without
The language of others in mind, but I was
As alone as I had been in a long time, more
So than when on the road in a foreign land
Where I didn't speak the language. I was
Home, after a manner of speaking,
On familiar ground, but without family,
Daughter having gone to a sleepover
At a neighbor's and the rest having run out
After the rabbits. Only the lame stood,
Swaying on my crutches in the courtyard,
Alone with the language of others, musty
Bones. I deceived to eat. I woke up realizing
I was more coyote than backyard lap dog,
But there I was stuck in my own backyard.
Coyote could have, I supposed, considered it
Fortunate that none of it would be mine
Much longer. For myself, I remained afraid
Of the garden gate, of going through it,
Of going through with it. If you look back
To find out what happened after you left,
You realize only that you haven't yet left.
How alone would I have had to be not to be?
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