past the cold dormant rose, the planted linden tree,
the native kinnikinnick,
to lower herself at the edge of our back deck.
An incidental bow, and under,
where she disappeared from my glassed-in view
as I looked out from the window, the fog at dawn.
I was roused to joy, or to envy:
Oh, her wild composure
in that liquid focused movement.
My breath stopped—
until she emerged still leading at a run
from the far end of the structure.
And something small dangled
from her perfect teeth.
Jerri Elliott Otto is a writer, editor, and amateur videographer living on a quiet acre near the McDonald-Dunn Forest in Western Oregon. She has been a presenter and guest teacher for classes and writing workshops, including for the Northwest Poets Concord and the Oregon Poetry Association. She is an award-winning poet and enjoys producing experimental video poetry. Currently she is finishing a narrative biography of her sister, the spiritual teacher, Jacqueline Metheany.