attacking the ivy

before it gets to the house —

roots too deep to dig

cedar waxwings

and the berries they love —

anything to look up

I kneel on the ground

to cheer on my seedlings —

four tiny leaves each

our front yard bunny

delicately mowing down

a line of clover

just two days of work

and the new nest is ready —

robins at our door

everyday grief —

stars that grow brighter

as we look away

dead tree —

a warbler on a high branch

sings in the sun

figuring out

which way is up —

seeds underground

rain in the bamboo

and on the small heads

of just-hatched wrens

intersecting orbits —

the stranger whose morning walk

crosses with mine

wanting the bluejay

to stop being a bully —

our uphill fights

a wide open sky

over all the things

we’re not doing

sorry, cicadas!

the hole was for spring planting

go on back to sleep

a male catbird

singing every song he knows

and still she flies by

bright surprise —

the seeds we planted

unfolding skyward

halfway up the rock

both directions seeming hard —

the ache of holding fast

buttercups 

springing up at the edges

of our uncut lawns

hatching day —

goslings making their way

down to the water

treetops caught

in the last sun of the day —

all that is out of reach

(photo by @sacarlavoz)

first walk of the year

without a jacket —

I tell the birds about it

morning rain

overlapping neatly

with my walk

nights still too cold

to leave the seedlings outside —

indoor lullabies

walking my letter

to the post office

longing in every step

I try a new path

and wind up by the lake —

downhill’s gentle tug

blue robin’s egg

turned empty side up —

we fill in the space

a cardinal couple

checking in with each other

across the garden

jealously racing

to reach full bloom first —

azaleas and the moon

pain pills

even forgotten in my pocket

still do the trick

under a low cloud

we wake to signs of rain —

somewhere a door slams

stooping to visit

buttercups and spring beauties

we stand up too fast

waxing half moon —

we stop

to let the fox cross