I’ve not felt much at home. It’s not the family.
They’re great. In fact, there are small elephant figures
we keep in the house. Some are brass,
with wavy colorful lines and wavy trunks.
I have one wooden elephant.
It’s not afraid of mice the way some are,
so I’d rather not call it an elephant.
I am myself not usually afraid of mice,
which is to say I am unusually afraid.
It’s been far too long.
I’d prefer if I grew over time less so,
but I do not think this a realistic trajectory.
That makes me sad.
Sometimes, when sad, I think of elephants,
and the sun’s gone already for a blue swim into the horizon,
a blue-grey touch like elephants over everything.