An explanation of time

There's this animal which, when frightened,sheds all its fur at once, hyena-like, in shape,though its call resembles the blendingof frozen strawberries, that grabgrindand mash of blades, I've seen it in the dreamI'm pretending to have had, the one in whichI heckle a heckler's heckling, who screams,"life doesn't work that way, you don'tget to make things up," when I remind himhe's only as real as this scatteringof night-marks across a pastureof cloud, words have a wayof having their way, then the animal runswhile the predator sniffs for what it thoughtwas there, food, of course, and follows,too late by then to do more than wanderinto the way life is, now that it has changed.