The Porcupine

Salt in the wood
from hands on the handle
for many years of work;

leave it out on the lawn
after raking and you may see
the porcupine come and gnaw it up.

His long teeth carve and cut across the grain;
his back arches up against attack.
If you think of going out to stop him,

recognize that he will move slowly
if he does decide to leave the tool alone,
and that’s no given; he may instead choose

to do nothing, his steady assault
upon the handle certain and assured
in the knowledge that there’s really

nothing you can do about his appetites.
When he leaves, you’ll put the rake away.
The incident may change you. Maybe you’ll feel

the toothmarks under your hand next time you rake,
and think then of how your sweat
must have tasted.  Perhaps

you’ll lay your tongue to the wood
to find out for yourself what the attraction was.
In your dreams you’ll imagine you own a back

bristling with quills.  You’ll begin to move more slowly,
deliberately, confidently.  You’ll leave your home
and move to the woods, 

learning to love the feel of leaves
beneath your feet, start to wonder
why anyone would want them gone.