Eating Alone

In the dim dawn of autumn
I glimpse a baby raccoon.
Night-coloured, she scratches at trash bags
so she may eat. Her clawed feet
shuffle. She has no mother
to nip her and nag her,
“Don’t touch that. Slow down.”
No people to harm her
(Except for me).
Alone, she is safe;
independent and free.
I turn from my orphaned friend,
unsure if I feel sadness,
or jealousy.