Family of the Exterior
I thought I was climbing then the climbing became building and I had a brick house and a family on top of a hill in a province known for olives and glovers. That winter we burned porcupine hides and warded off wolves with pink synthetic feathers. Curious, intelligent, the wolves began to trust me. Their dark eyes posed questions, and each answer opened new questions. Sphinxlike they'd poise themselves at the windows, watching for the feathers, licking their varnished teeth. Eventually the sun would cross the hill and blind them with its glare. They'd howl, so loud, so melodic, I called them my nightingales.
---Nathan Hoks
---found in The Narrow Circle (2013)