A Moose in the Rain

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

She thinks the face of a moose is as sad

as the face of Jesus.  But, Jesus didn’t look

sad when we met. And, the moose, he

was, I’d say, fully accepting of his awkwardness.

All my life, I’ve been trying to be that moose,

though, until now, I wouldn’t have said “moose,”

maybe “duckling,” because that’s the story I

remember being recited to me, repeatedly, during

an awkward  childhood; they, perhaps, thinking  it

a salve, but I’ve never looked and seen a swan

looking at me,

so when I saw him there, his fleshy proboscis

lipping shrubbery in the pouring rain of Denali,

his body his own and soaked in its true nature,

I thought:

“This is magnificent! I am a moose.”

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author

Published in  Conversations with Mary: Words of Attention and Devotion

Winner of the Nautilus Book Award silver medal for poetry

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