I'd like to shed my skin right here,
Even though it's cold,
Even though it doesn't seem to
Be the time of year
When one should trade their old
Outer shell for a new one, but
It brings me cheer this urge
To rip my wrap, throw my hat
Up into this nice person's
Manicured terrace.
I could leave a long trail of clothes
Before I got down to my actual scales,
And once I slither out of that,
Who knows but what I might have a tail,
And fur, and milk glands.
I might be a mammal after all!
I might shiver and squat
And take a poo in some other neighbor's yard
Before I make it home.

Or maybe I'd just wander off,
Following the scent of mink or musk
Of some other fine hound like me,
And pray I didn't see a skunk or squirrel
That would lead me off
Down a goose-chase trail
From which I might never return.

But whatever it is that I'll become,
I feel myself, one day closer to it.
If today is not the day,
Then maybe the prayers that the neighbors pray
Are still working,
And they'll have to wait to gather to discuss
The strange undergarments and fecal matter
They found in their yards
For one more day, at least.

-jenn