Death in Captivity, a Surrender

An animal searches for its homeland.

Say to the animal: here is your home, here is your livelihood, here in this fenced perimeter.

Say to the animal: you are the last of your kind, that is why you must live.

An animal migrates into a new body, senses the impulse to leave.

Say to the animal: heavy is an apology inside the wind.

Say to the animal: mortality anchors us to this planet.

An animal dies searching for its birthland.

Say to the animal: may your steps serve as an itinerary of your past.

Say to the animal: may you come back as a body of water.

May you come back as a saola.

All captured saolas have died in captivitywith the exception of two released back into the forest.

Say to the saola: forgive us in our plea to love you, forgive that you give us meaning.

Say to the saola: to die in captivity swells your mystery, god-sworn to never reveal the beauty inside.

A saola dies in captivity, each breath falling back in time.

Say to the saola: your livelihood is outside, your bordered topography is a country that may never return.

A saola is wounded in the act of capture.

A saola grows ill in captivity.

A saola dies and takes this future with it.

Say to the saola: here is a basket in which to gather snowlight, here is a blanket made of prayer.

Say to the saola: here is an echo of the human you’ve left behind.