Alien Encounter

Marilee Richards

   Pinery Canyon Road, Arizona
     Thanksgiving Day

We were cautious at first since we thought they might
be dangerous, and communication was difficult
after curiosity brought us in

for a closer look. They had hands like ours and friendly faces,
unlike the ones we would have expected
after seeing them portrayed as evil

opportunists in so many motion pictures and tweets, so
with sounds and gestures they were able to convey to us
they needed food. They had traveled a long way across a galaxy

of near misses and extreme hardship to get to our world
and appeared dazed and confused after landing
on this backwoods road, mother ship

nowhere in sight. Others of their kind had already arrived
and had been trying to assimilate, but often
could not assume the appearance of our people

quickly enough to avoid detection. This motley gathering
of mostly females seemed especially ill prepared
and included some of their young.

I don’t know how it was their attempts
to make themselves understood began to succeed
although, considering the circumstances, telepathy

can’t be ruled out. We opened the trunk
and fished out bread, crackers, cans of Spam
and garbanzo beans, chicken thighs

we had left over from dinner
at the Timber Creek Campground where we had spent
the night. A phone number that was written

on a scrap of paper as a contact with their cohorts
in the gathering place of Phoenix wasn’t reachable
from our primitive cell phone,

but they seemed satisfied with the food and were too busy
wolfing it down to blast us to smithereens
with their hidden ray guns. We parted amicably

and as we drove off I could see them in the mirror,
making their way down the road, casting wrappers
and orange peels to the ground as they walked.