Beneath a gibbous moon
the werewolf howls and hunts
for her keys. Again.
*
The werewolf foreswears
any pack that shackles itself
to hierarchy.
How can they argue
beneath a silvered moon
that animals can’t change?
Instead she works too
much too hard in a job
that devours souls.
*
In the queer city
the fox spirit, far from cruel
village men, comes out.
*
When the fox reads
an AITA post,
her past shapeshifts.
The responses reveal
the abuse she lived,
unnamed for so long.
She reads and cries,
devastated and
relieved both.
*
Every third moon,
the werewolf packs,
books an Airbnb.
Her change heals,
but not enough to repair
corporate burnout.
She vows to achieve
better life balance. Begins
to explore baking.
*
With eyes bright,
the fox joins a feminist
birdwatching group.
They speak of starlings,
sociobiology,
practices of care.
The fox confides:
humans thrust sexism on birds
—and on spirits, too.
*
The wolf scents the fox,
arrives at her door bristling
gluten-free brownies.
*
Behind the door,
the fox smells chocolate, wolf—
transformation. Opens.
*
Nibbling, they circle
around, through each other’s tales
to reach . . . friendship.
Their differences,
they discover, are more alike
than seems possible.
*
They race, they play, they
bare their hearts, they listen, they
understand, they love.
They walk each other,
barking laughter whenever
someone queries breed.
They compare changes:
gradual and phased
vs. immediate.
They start a podcast,
Your Shifty Neighbors, to share
laughter and wisdom—
Your ability
to change isn’t evil.
It’s just you, living.
*
And when the moon turns,
the fox keeps the wolf’s keys
by her door, ready.