I caught sight of my life sitting on a log by the barn.
It sat upright when it saw me and actually blushed. 
Beyond was the expanse of sky, the water below 
and a blossoming gate of mountain ash. I knew
immediately it was my life (it felt familiar)
although the fur and horns were a surprise. 
I wanted answers. In the almost twilight, it confessed.
Yes, it had been messing up for years. I admonished it,
said, You should know better. It claimed
it didn’t know I was along for the ride. I followed
it down the slope, until it faded into the dark recesses
of the undergrowth. Yet, I still thought my life was
with me (perhaps, it too had hopes) that we’d have
a long talk over dinner and keep talking far into the night.  

— Lisa Young

First published in Minola Review, June 14, 2018 | Issue 18.