They named you for your cry,
when danger was lurking
around the next branch.

Clutching
tight with hooked claws, moving along
slowly, hand over hand, sleeping

in the shade under a canopy
of leaves ;
in a crotch
with your head hanging down
between your arms.

Slender
as your legs
with their three razor sharp nails.

You hide your eyes
and ears under long gray hair, stretching
your neck to bathe your nose
in the sun
peeking through the holes
and in the rain letting the algae
turn your coat bluish green.

You share your meals at the cecropia tree
but do not speak, no nest
or den to lay your bones in
unless she’s been nurturing her bitch to heat.