In the sharp tundral air
at the edge of a lamp-lit lot, the history of a dog scrambles
after the history of a wolf
five feet from the side of the road.
We are surrounded by the history of things
waiting to happen. When summer comes,
dry trees wait for fires to consume hills, houses, cars,
so that they might finally reproduce.
The wolf you’ve followed is after hides of its own.
When the moment is right, raise the rifle to your shoulder,
fix the sight according to the wind’s distance,
and when you have a clean shot, fire.
Where the lead lands, a seed should follow,
briefly taking root in the hollow of its skull.
Joshua Mensch grew up in Nova Scotia, Canada. His poems have appeared most recently in the Collagist, The Economy Weekly, and Smartish Pace. He lives in Prague, Czech Republic, where he works in marketing and is a founding editor of the literary journal B O D Y.