Beneath a gibbous moon
the werewolf howls and hunts
for her keys. Again.

*

The werewolf foreswears
any pack that shackles itself
to hierarchy.

How can they argue
beneath a silvered moon
that animals can’t change?

Instead she works too
much too hard in a job
that devours souls.

*

In the queer city
the fox spirit, far from cruel
village men, comes out.

*

When the fox reads
an AITA post,
her past shapeshifts.

The responses reveal
the abuse she lived,
unnamed for so long.

She reads and cries,
devastated and
relieved both.

*

Every third moon,
the werewolf packs,
books an Airbnb.

Her change heals,
but not enough to repair
corporate burnout.

She vows to achieve
better life balance. Begins
to explore baking.

*

With eyes bright,
the fox joins a feminist
birdwatching group.

They speak of starlings,
sociobiology,
practices of care.

The fox confides:
humans thrust sexism on birds
—and on spirits, too.

*

The wolf scents the fox,
arrives at her door bristling
gluten-free brownies.

*

Behind the door,
the fox smells chocolate, wolf—
transformation. Opens.

*

Nibbling, they circle
around, through each other’s tales
to reach . . . friendship.

Their differences,
they discover, are more alike
than seems possible.

*

They race, they play, they
bare their hearts, they listen, they
understand, they love.

They walk each other,
barking laughter whenever
someone queries breed.

They compare changes:
gradual and phased
vs. immediate.

They start a podcast,
Your Shifty Neighbors, to share
laughter and wisdom—

Your ability
to change isn’t evil.
It’s just you, living.

*

And when the moon turns,
the fox keeps the wolf’s keys
by her door, ready.