Zachary T. Kalinoski
Symbiosis
Outside my dining room window, I glance at the slow-motion swan dive of the oak trees' leaves plunge
from perch to earth. My neighbors emerge from their homes to dance autumn's ritual for the cleanest yard.
I run to the garage for the nearest rake, claw away at the oak trees' refuse, unhousing the shelter of
earthworms and grubs. With every swipe of the rake, a robin hops closer, pecking at the table I'd prepared.
I didn't dream up this life. A personal chef to an idling robin. An earthworm's ill-tempered god wielding
his mighty scythe.
With arthritic knees, I genuflect — please forgive me little earthworm, but the neighbors are watching.
Holding the fork with both hands, I continue scraping away at the salad of ashen leaves.
They didn't teach us this in biology class — guilt. I got enough of that in theology.
Bio
Zachary T. Kalinoski is an emerging writer from Columbus, Ohio. When not scratching lines on paper or pecking a keyboard, you can find him wrangling data for organizations, listening to poetry podcasts, and adoring time with his wife, daughter, and cavapoo.