222. Spotting Kangaroos

In the field, the kangaroo stands frozen
under the twisted wood that mimics a tree
and, for a moment, I think this creature
is also part of the landscape, unmoving,
solid.

My mind cannot decide
if it's animal
or plant,
so my feet slow to a stop
as I struggle to pull out the details
and make a choice.

As soon as I stop,
though,
the kangaroo springs into action,
bounding across the field,
further away from me
and my curiosity.

The Joey in the Road

The wind shield streaked with red dust
and evening dew, we spot the small form
of a joey on the side of the dirt road,
its body white in the arc of the headlights.
For a moment, I think it's going to stay
in place even though we slow to a stop,
but then it turns, looking into the lights
and taking a hesitant hop into the road.
It stops again just watching, waiting
for something that we can't determine.
Another moment passes before it hops
across the road, over the line of bushes
at the edge, away, into the darkness.

Seeking Kangaroos

Post-dawn, I look out at the field of grass and shrubs,
ominous in a place with so many deadly creatures.
Weeks have passed since I've seen a kangaroo,
other than the one tipped on its side at the edge
of the main road, its leg stiff in the air and bent sharply
at an angle too awkward to have been usable anyway,
but this is the perfect time to spot one hopping
in the trace of light before the heat burns down.

For a moment, I think I've spotted one, but I decide
it's a rock and the pink sky has changed the coloring,
because I wouldn't spot a kangaroo on my first try
when I'm only looking because I'm a passenger.
Yet, the reddish lump moves, growing a bit taller
and I can make out the curve of an ear on a head
that has appeared from behind the rest of the body.

The kangaroo doesn't move as we drive past
and the sun continues to slide into the sky.

Impressions

In the dry red dirt,
old boot prints remain for weeks
with kangaroo tracks.

Millstream Kangaroos

At first, we point out every kangaroo
grazing in the bright green grasses
or standing frozen until we pass them,
but we grow complacent as the numbers
climb and kangaroos become ordinary.
Later, when we round a bend in the dirt trail
emerging from the tree covered land
into a prairie of celery-colored grains,
I look up from the rocks and bushes
to see a kangaroo use its powerful legs
to bound across the horizon, out of sight,
and I remember just how unique
and absurd this moment really is.