woolly caterpillar —

so much slower to uncurl

the second time

since motherhood

all she can see in winter

are heads needing hats

like the horses

moving faster on our way

back to the barn

we are together —

how long we have waited

for each of these nights

front yard maple —

just big enough this year

to hold up some lights

at the edges

of each other’s sight —

trading smiles

day’s end —

only the clock’s ticking

to keep me company

saving the soup —

the work of not stirring up

the burned bits

sub-freezing cold —

no matter how we stand

the water finds us


(Thinking about the water protectors at Standing Rock)