Salamanders

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

It isn’t just the salamander that you save,

on a dark, warm, rainy night, crossing the road,

sure to be crushed into something pale and

mushy, maybe with reminiscent spots or

blotches or stripes, no, there is more in your

wet, finger-puckering hand, there is evidence

of ancient times and awe. A voice reminds you

of things you had forgotten. You don’t fully

understand, but you do.

© 2016-2020/Jamie K. Reaser

From "Wonderment: New and Selected Poems" (a work in progress)

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