Frisbee
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

Once I saw a dog jump after a squirrel in a tree,
and end up hanging by a branch in his mouth, until

he realized he could just stop biting and let go–
at which time he did–only to immediately

go chasing after a frisbee. And I remember thinking:
so much of a dog’s life is one unexpected joy

after another, and their universe is complete–knowing
nothing but miracles. Which then helped me to remember:

I can’t tell you the last time I made a fist,
and astonishment is a regular part of my everyday,

and there is no real distinction between us and nature,
and no real need to go chasing after facts, because,

when it’s all said and done, it doesn’t matter
who invented the kiss, and it’s impossible to wander

fruitlessly, and, if I ever do find myself stuck in a tree,
I hope I remember–there is nothing stopping me from letting go.