The Grass I Still Haven't Cut
Amanda Bailey



And won’t, before I move into town. I am finding animals

every day in there, ones that were lost to the long lawns

of outbuildings, the fields of development going slow.

Now – a bunny

(I love him so I call him bunny) emerging

from the thick fur of green behind the mailbox.

The delicate cat, plunging like a porpoise

in those hearty stems, tips like peanut shells.

Her eyes in that moment

before fireworks go out, teeth

warming with the mineral taste of a mouse

caught in the burnpile.


Does she check me for fear or stealing?

Or hunt or predator

or alien or wishing?


Or just, “hello animal.”

Like we do, like we do every day.





Amanda currently lives in Tucson, Arizona.