"A Daughter of the Forest" by Jaci Penelope

a daughter of the forest

For a moment, I could not see the trail
from where I had veered off
to relieve myself behind a large tree;

I heard a rustle off to my rear left,
and out from the leaves,
a smallish, striped creature
stuck its head

“oh, I didn’t see you there,”
I said, startled.

“hello,” said the creature,
in a voice not unlike my own.

“I’m sorry to have disturbed you,”
I said to the creature, “this is where
I come to be alone.”

“it’s no trouble,”
said the sleek, orangish thing,
its fur gleaming
under patches of thick jungle sun
between spots of leafy shade.

“who are you?” I asked it,
not thinking the words to myself,
but letting the question fall
from my mouth.

“I am the last of my kind,
well, one of them, anyway;
I am a daughter to this forest.”

“did my kind hunt, trap
and kill the rest of you?”
I asked, with hesitation.

“yes,” she answered,
“but to me, this is no matter;
my life here is elusive, and
like yourself, I prefer to be alone,”
she said.

“will you show me
the secrets of the forest?”
I asked.

“come with me,” she said,
turning into the bush and
glancing back at me;
I was unsure if she cared
whether I would follow.

A moment later, I was
trailing behind
as we disappeared
among the roots and leaves.