found becomes lost —

the catbird starts a new nest

and gives us the slip

one bluejay, one crow

each insisting the other

quit the highest branch

once again this spring

we miss our chance to help

the peonies stand tall

(for Anne)

today I can tell

that I ran just far enough —

gnats in my nose

tide charts —

I go looking

for the full moon

my father checks in —

we remember not his words,

but their quaver

tucked away

in the hearts of trees —

wide open bird beaks

crayfish in the creek

leaving a muddy cloud

as they back away

startling a rabbit

and feeling in that zigzag

the friction of choice

untended gardens —

how we miss you,

your flowers and I

(in remembrance of Ann, whose irises we last admired together at about this time last year)

oceans of blossoms —

we take turns

exclaiming

barn swallows

making a gift of delight

with those long low swoops

nesting catbird’s eye

as we peer in past the leaves —

looking back at us

at day’s end

all that’s left of the fight —

my raspy throat

tiny grey catbird

singing any song she likes  —

yes, your Majesty

boys off exploring

until rain drives them back home —

evidence of spring

mica and quartz flecks —

how rich the sun’s light made me

when I was eight!

my blanket

bunched down there at my feet —
signs of spring

from under her wing

as she gathers them back in —

small quacks of comfort

more fuzz than feathers,

parents trying to keep track —

three new-hatched goslings

forwarding address —

no matter where they start,

my thoughts turn to you

tulips we planted

standing in the quenching rain

with open mouths

restless wind

fallen petals swirling —

emptying the house

the urge to warn —

birds upping the volume

as dusk approaches

wondering

if you looked at the stars

over where you are

practicing proud —

geese sitting tall

on their nests

spring in Baltimore —

the dull thud of bees

as they hit the glass

waking to the sound

of quarters in the dryer —

our teen tries to help

I lose her question

in the green of her eyes —

one kind of answer

spring moon

tugging on the peonies

while we sleep

one tulip

tucked amongst the weeds  —

forgiveness