THE BEGINNING FROM THE END by Judie Maré

As if born in my inbox full color

animal babies burst to life on my screen; 

one with an open yellow bill, 

a wide-eyed one lifting its trunk, 

another spiraled in slothfulness, 

a gaping-mouthed alligatorette, 

a miniature hydro-dynamic dolphin. 

All baby somethings are adorable . . . 

except for the knobby warthog, perhaps. 

And the fifty wormy rattlesnakes 

engendered no maternal aaahs, nor did

the Jurassic sight of baby bald eagles 

naked as jaybirds.

Survival is something to praise, though; 

the prefledged owl adopted 

by a caring housecat, or

the orphaned fawn fostered 

by a pack of hunting dogs,

brings spontaneous tears to one's eyes.

The oldest among us welcomes survivors, 

and applauds perseverance whether fully furred, 

plumed, scaled, or scarred.

But being the oldest does bring unsuspected trials

and the possibility of a lonely unforeseen end.