It and I

"Who are you?" It cooed.

Its eyes behind my back

spoke to the intent of its curiosity,

something brushed against my hand

in a low yet dangerous level of ferocity.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

Legs shaking yet still standing,

"I am the night sky,

and both the comfort and dread that comes with it."

It bellowed, its breath creating wind

that shook the trees around me.

"Who are you?" It repeated.

"I'm a human and a poet, though I do not know

which describes me greater," I answered.

For a moment It thought, for I heard the wind whistling

of old warnings our ancestors once knew.

"Neither. For you are a liar without knowing it."

It relayed, the creak of the woods urging me

to listen. "But I am a poet," I protested.

"Yes," It agreed. "You are a poet."