ate the girl
when she went alone
to the outhouse at night. 

The black grass rustled, the black leaves,
the lion in the trees
leaped. Someone screamed—an owl. 

Dark everywhere in the forest. 
Then from the lighted house,
gunfire, late. 

(She didn’t tell her father,
who held the rifle,
that she was leaving.)

Everyone will try to keep you always
but it’s alright to go to the forest and the animal,
if you really want.