Cross Country

A man at a bus stop advises atonement.

I nod and smile and look down

at my shoes. I can’t quit speaking

to strangers. It’s how I discover

America. A woman talks about

cross country running—short slopes,

long hills, steep descents, rocky

ground. She says I could jog through all

weather—snow, sleet, punishing rain.

At the zoo the scent of civet stuns

me. I can’t bear to sit on cold steps

beside leopards’ cages. A volunteer

holds out a tarantula so I can stroke

its hairy thorax. The spider whirls, hisses,

extends its hinged fangs. I join customers

waiting for coffee at Jimmy’s Citgo,

debit cards in our hands. A stranger

tells me to study crows and cold weather.

I start running on gravel roads past brick

churches, turning my face to the wind.

Barbara Daniels’ book Rose Fever was published by WordTech Press. Talk to the Lioness is forthcoming from Casa de Cinco Hermanas Press. Daniels’ poetry has appeared in Prairie Schooner, Mid-American Review, and other journals. She received three fellowships from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts.