Badger

A badger crossed the road

Where Wyoming touches Colorado
The low-cropped sage 
Draws out across layered stone 
And touches the sky.

Where the holes of oil wells 
Seem to outnumber the badger’s

And I try and capture him 
With my camera
As he scurries in the maze of sage
Pauses and looks back 

Over the wind-trimmed sage
His face bright and quizzical
He turns and hurries along
Lost in the brush until 

Again he looks back
Raises his head and 
Again a knowing intense look
Curious and cautious, eyes sparkling

Belying something more  
And as I approach he stops
One more time 
Before disappearing 
Altogether 

And I find his home, his shelter
The damp clay soil 
Betrays the sweet mark of paw and claw
Where he made his escape 

Three days hence
I remained haunted by the badger

Its rich clean fur
Plump and healthy

But mostly by the looks 
That made for me
Connection with the wild
Summoning that perhaps 

We are not all that different.