I didn’t see one downtown 
like I thought I might
like they say there are now
roaming the streets 
of San Francisco

but this morning 
outside the office
one rounded the corner
glanced at me
then trotted down the alleyway 
back toward the safety of the desert hills
his tail and big ears
unmistakable 

in a way
it’s comforting to see
how quickly the wild things
reclaim the earth
as their own
                        

as recent events have
shoved in our faces
what we normally see
only in our peripheral vision...
today, I took a walk outside 
despite the wind
despite the storm 
blowing in across the Sierra crest
because I saw—
I saw how the white petals
on the trees outside 
were ripe for the plucking 
and how even without this
increasing shadow 
hovering
you don’t get too many days
in a year
or a lifetime 
to feel like you’re standing 
in a giant snow globe
but just try to grab them
like snowflakes—
I did
I tried to catch them
my hands were quick 
but their flight was erratic 
as a thousand mad butterflies 
and I missed 
every...single...one
                        

under the Reno arch downtown
on Virginia Street
it could be a scene 
from an old western—
a deserted street 
some dust, 
a tumbleweed blows by
as the residents of the town
press against glass
waiting for two men
to meet at high noon
 
except it’s 5 p.m.
rush hour on a Friday night
no good guys
no bad guys
no six guns at the ready
 
down the block
a sunburned homeless man
with a long grey beard
paces the sidewalk 
near the dark
barred windows
of a pawn shop
gesturing, conversing
with some invisible adversary 
perhaps casting a spell...
 
I sure hope so