Natalie Padilla Young | Poetry

Will you get the wallet from the car? I want to buy dinosaur poo. 

—Tourist, Moqui Cave, Utah

It’s petrified. Maybe
that’s obvious
because it’s a dinosaur’s. After all
it’s still here
now available for purchase. Can it be

put on display? Placed in the bathroom
next to candle and matches.
a flame to cover
hints of destruction. With the first dog

you send flowers. What should you send
for the second who passes
only weeks later
on Christmas Eve? Another bouquet
doesn’t seem right. A prehistoric leftover—

can that be
the present? Polished smooth
by tumble
and years. Always alert to our own leaks,

for blood—relieved when it comes back
clean, endlessly surprised
when it doesn’t. Everything leaves
behind, no matter the care

taken. Covered in a perfect angle
of light, caught
in the camera frame, a fallen tree
looks just right,
if you weren’t around to hear it come down.