sapsucker season —
a line of small perfect holes
ringing the maple

returned from school —
we push new habits aside
to make room for him

as I drift asleep
I call old friends to mind  —
the rain falls softly

low iron levels —
my ineligibility
feeling like failure

graduation day —
stadium pigeons look on 
as mortarboards fly

peony blossoms —
we try to convince the deer
of sweeter blooms elsewhere

walking home at dusk —
acrobatic chimney swifts 
where the sky begins

just after dawn
the deer slip by to check
on our offerings

shrieks and cannonballs

displacing circling pool leaves —

summer draws near

driving into the sun 
steering from memory
to where the road was

we walk in the rain
watching the flowers
turn their faces up

morning half moon —
I neglect to notice if 
waxing or waning

nesting season —
as I walk, small blue half domes
evidence of hatching

another Sunday —
the flight of zinnia seeds
from my open hand

coordinated poison —
I wait for news of my friends'
latest chemo rounds

early morning fog —
our sense of the road ahead
reduced to guesswork

each iris stalk
racing in its quiet way
to be first to bloom

humming along
to a song I don't know yet —
carried by the chords

catbirds at dusk
tuning up their instruments
deep in the bamboo

hazy flower moon — 
we find our way forward
through remembered light

hand-scattering 

zinnia seeds like a prayer

over rain damp earth

in the pink of it
a tiny hitchhiking ant — 
peony bouquet

tiny house sparrows
gauging the width of our vents
by slipping inside

silently jostling
for the best view of the sun —
azalea blossoms

a figure in black
walking at the edge of the road  —
dotting a solid line

highway hotel —
all night the sound of trucks
braking down the hill

the level of fear
rising like groundwater  —
trapped with no runway

describing branches
so we can help each other
find the green heron

heavy-hearted —
we pull out the old sorrows
to compare notes

spring peepers
insistently reminding —
we needed this rain

Mayday, mayday —
learning what we would do
in an emergency