[vc_row row_height_percent=”50″ override_padding=”yes” h_padding=”2″ top_padding=”3″ bottom_padding=”3″ back_image=”56863″ back_position=”center top” overlay_alpha=”0″ gutter_size=”3″ shift_y=”0″][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ position_vertical=”bottom” style=”dark” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ zoom_width=”0″ zoom_height=”0″ width=”1/1″][vc_custom_heading heading_semantic=”h1″ text_size=”fontsize-338686″ text_height=”fontheight-179065″ text_space=”fontspace-111509″ text_font=”font-762333″ text_weight=”700″ text_color=”color-xsdn” sub_reduced=”yes” subheading=”by Anna B. Sutton”]Wild[/vc_custom_heading][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_empty_space empty_h=”2″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]back home a bear
crossed the parking lot of a local bowling alley
and the town went wild we aimed
cameras at our backyards
like birds of prey we craned
our necks while driving scanned
the woods along the interstate
for a telltale black mass different
than the ones we knew furrying
the corners of our master baths
or eclipsing our PET scans with
their absences desperate
to find him some earthly beast local TV
vans parked outside A1 Lanes prowled
the suburban streets where scientists told us
he would be by then no one
saw him again as a child, I didn’t
want to be wild I wanted to be kept
in a cage dangling only feet
above a carpeted floor a pretty
bird a mimeographer a full breast
bursting with feather jewel
tones that dinner
guests would remark on between bites
of pecan pie who would trade
a plump handful of seed
for an afternoon spent scooping
discarded nacho cheese
from a dumpster but here I am
perched in the snow with a family
of wolves opening my mouth
for the alpha female who licks inside
my cheek this is how
she decides if I am
friend or foe some small
part of me wanting her teeth[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ align_horizontal=”align_center” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ mobile_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ z_index=”0″ width=”1/1″][vc_empty_space][vc_separator sep_color=”color-184322″ el_width=”30%”][vc_empty_space][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ align_horizontal=”align_right” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ mobile_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ z_index=”0″ width=”1/3″][vc_single_image media=”59939″ media_width_percent=”100″][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][vc_column_text]Anna B. Sutton is a therapist and poet living in North Carolina. Her award-winning debut collection, Savage Flower, was published by Black Lawrence Press in 2021. Individual poems have appeared in Indiana Review, Copper Nickel, Quarterly West, Los Angeles Review and elsewhere.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][/vc_column][/vc_row]