four long years later
we could all still be better
at accepting help

unacceptable —

even while I look away

the death toll rises

the front yard bunny
rejoices in the reappearance
of grass after snow

long V's of geese
winging across a dark sky —
moonless New Year

warmer days —
the ice covering the lake
starts to look slushy

catch and release —
the owl's wing flashing briefly
as the sun slips away

white-throated sparrows
scattering aloft 
at the sight of me

Fallsington Meeting —
the lyrics of the old songs
catch in our throats

I stamp the moon's face
onto my calendar's squares —
a reminder to look up

never-used dishes
complete with dead bugs —
cabinet clean out

flames climbing canyons
reduced visibility
yet tomorrow arrives

we hear them scolding
before one bursts into flight —
kingfisher turf wars

pebbles in pockets —
at bedtime he wants to know
where the colors went

snowy winter night —
we step into the moonlight
and follow our breath

listening tonight
to two kinds of quiet —
before snow, and after

early morning snow —
a vole gives me the small gift
of its attention

this morning the ice
stretched to the lake's far shore —
what could the sun say?

two brown creepers
spiralling up an oak tree —
we tilt our heads back

no rain for months —
every growing thing
turned into tinder

a space in the clouds
just wide enough for the moon 
as it blocks out Mars

tiny sparrow tracks
a record of their seeking
mapped in the snow

glowing horizon —
Eaton and Palisades fires
burning off the dark

at day's end
we trade vixen sightings
lengthening her stride

where the lake narrows —
geese in a shrinking circle
as the ice moves in

mending my nets —
turning over names of friends
I need to check on

tamping down the snow
as they fluff to twice their size —
dark-eyed juncos

Carolina wren
staying put for the winter —
no thought of escape

frozen solid day —
time to pour warm water
into the birdbath

first light of the day
finding its way past the news —
rabbit prints in snow

second day this year
where the fox's path and mine 
failed to ever cross

into the night sky
a line of satellites
as if pulled on a string