Wild in the Streets

There are animals moving through the streets tonight.
I can see them from here -

muscles rippling beneath dark fur,
feral eyes glinting, snouts moist and twitching
under yellow sodium light.

I hear the sound of hooves
against the asphalt, clicking.
I glimpse a lupine tongue
rolling over pointed teeth, licking.

Wolves in the street!
I lose count at ten.
This must be
a dream menagerie -
passing below my window now,
bears larger than men.

Past sleeping cars wide eyed deer
pause then cautiously proceed. Tonight
the line between hunter and hunted
is erased by some unknown need.

What drives them on I cannot say.
But on they come, on and away!

Wild boar snorting, rats by the hundreds scurrying.
Mountain lions, serpents and horses,
all of them hurrying.

There is a rhythm in that motion, a pulse
that matches my own.
Deep within my blood I feel it quicken and begin.

Now I am moving down the stairs,
the doorknob turns in my hand,
cool air rushes in.

An old one, previously unpublished so far as I know.