Today I went with my friend Carolyn to meet a group from the Street Youth Ministries at her alpaca farm.  Shortly after we arrived, we all went out with carrots to greet the alpaca.  Their caretaker told us that the alpaca were skittish today, because a strong wind had been blowing.  He thought it affected them by roaring in their ears.  In any case, they seemed more reluctant than usual to approach us.  But eventually, some of them did.

They walk within the frames they have created

to hold their fragile sense of who they are

They point and laugh, but show appreciation

for this strange group that watches from afar

who twitch as one, and turn, alert, to scan them

and take in every move they make, all ready

to bolt, or maybe come a little closer

if something should entice them to approach

Each eager hand holds out a carrot

Each one holds out a gift in hope

The stakes almost to high for them to bear it

Alpaca-skittish, each may let it drop:

Will any of these clear-eyed wild ones see

my worthy soul inside and come to me?