I barely spotted him, her, it?
flat on the ground, a curving stick
slow and dull with the cold,
mottled brown,
many-humped bulb for a tail.
There was danger here in the road
for us both.
 
Grab a tiger by the tail I felt
holding the bucket
and watching
him, her it? slowly crawl in.
But the bulbed tail stayed quiet,
and no fangs showed piercing sharp
on my careful, so very careful
walk up the empty hill
to gently,
oh so gently
tip
him, her, it? onto
untraveled ground
the safer for us both.

Anyn Johansson, Covina, 1996 ©
Used with permission of the author.