Read Excerpts from The Chaffin Journal

Poetry

ALIEN SPECIES

by Carol Poster 

The magpie flirts with the tamarisk branches,
flashing white stripes as he flips back his wings.
He perches. His black tail twitches nervously,
and his head cocks, watching me pitch my tent.
Our ancestors migrated here,
His earlier, mine more recently, both uninvited.

I rehydrate dinner. Soon, it will be dark.
The bird is alert, perhaps seeking a place
To roost for the night, or perhaps
Disturbed by my presence.

The sun angles through the leaves
in isolated beams, picking out my stove,
a tent stake, and my meal.
The magpie searches for something to steal.

I clean dishes and teeth, crawl into my tent,
adjusting my foam pad and sleeping bag
to avoid tree roots inevitably unavoidable.
Feathery tamarisk brushes against the rainfly
As the stars gradually appear.

Intruders all, magpie, tamarisk, and human
settle into the dusk, as the temperature drops
and the canyon winds pick up.
I shiver. The tamarisk rustles. The magpie has vanished.

We do not belong here.