Joy Has a Lot to Answer For

They’ve got a winter to get
Through, you think, watching the runts
Chase through the dry autumn grass.

But do they? You consider
The impossibility
Of annual animals

The size of rodents or hares,
Mammals that give birth in dens
In winter, nurse their litters,

Then stay and die in those dens
Once their young leave with spring sun.
No, mammals couldn’t do it,

But what if some furry thing
Evolved in the direction
Of platypus, back to eggs,

Lived like an annual plant,
Setting seeds and then dying
When fall came, instead of this

Rushing around, scurrying
To prepare for survival
Through a long winter that might

Kill you anyway? One will,
Runts, if you keep this up
Long enough. One year you won’t

Make it through that bitter month
When the cold subtracts more warmth
From your nest than you can add.

Wouldn’t it be a fine life,
To rise with the climbing sun,
To end with the falling leaves?

But look at your excitement,
Your insistence you’ll persist,
Your determined, greedy joy.