To my brother the barred owl

whose quiet chatter coats 

my homecoming in ash—

thank you for your

magnanimous discretion.

For even in the wily mists

of aurora-streaked nights,

you’ve never asked me 

who I’m meant to be.

Instead, we simply bury 

ourselves in fallen leaves and

laugh at the folly of pretending

to be who we are not.

Maddox Emory Arnold (he/they) is a writer and educator based in Southeast Michigan. His words can be found in If There's Anyone Left, HAD, NonBinary Review, and elsewhere. Find him online at https://www.maddoxemoryarnold.com/home or on Twitter @maddox_emory