Balance

Starling tiptoes across a telephone wire—squirrel rests along a metal fence—owl hoots into the night as the Santa Ana winds roll through the canyon, ruffling the leaves on the pines—housecat races across the road, dodging an oncoming car, slinking through the break in a wooden fence—sedans run stop signs in the night—skunks peer wearily from the drain that runs to the ocean, no dumping sign painted on the asphalt beside it—trash cans with duct-taped damage overflow into the road—everywhere I looked I saw reminders of a tightrope knife’s edge between two things and found myself, somehow, in a doorway—