Solidarity
When white fur pops into a woodpile gap
I remember another ermine
slink-hopping between steps
then pausing, still
in early autumn brown
studying me while I studied them
as if we both wanted to understand
who stood before us, different
yet also home.
Adaptable, ermine wears a winter-hued coat
seasonal camouflage in snowy years
but on bare ground, a beacon
a target.
Not much snow has fallen this winter.
Being visible is risky
when the world’s climate changes
making lies out of borders
even as borders pervade.
Still, solidarity threatens power.
It is a force as old as time.
Now the woodpile is quiet
beneath red squirrel whistles. They know
it’s unsafe to stand out
unless we also stand together.