I salute the dog
who would not greet me
until I removed my hat.

I honor the long look
granted me by the cat
from across the room.

I think of the snakes and lizards 
unconcerned with my face
peering through their glass.

All those creatures wary of me,
happy enough without me
or my attention, disinterested

in my approach or my retreat,
have the proper attitude
toward random human behavior:

if it does not meet
their needs or wants, 
they are serene without it.

Those who flee
if I come too close — say,
the sparrows who fly

when I come to the window
to watch them at the feeders?
I assume they know

about what people harbor
within, and that I myself do not
wish them harm is irrelevant

in the light of that knowledge.
To be wary is to live. To be cautious
is to live. To live 

in spite of threats
either obvious or hidden
is to thrive.