Naming the Animals

Until he named the horse
horse,
hoofs left no print on the earth,
manes had not been invented,
swiftness and grace were not married.

Until he named the cow
cow,
no one slept standing up,
no one saw through opaque eyes,
food was chewed only once.

Only after he named the fish
fish,
did the light put on skins
of yellow and silver oil,
revealing itself as a dancer
and high-jump champion of the world,

just as later
he had to name the woman
love
before he could put on the knowledge
of who she was, with her small hands.

Lisel Mueller is a German-born American poet and winner of the Pulitzer Prize. Reprinted by permission of Louisiana State University Press from Alive Together by Lisel Mueller. Copyright © 1996 by Lisel Mueller.

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