may pond, 2&3

17 may

which will I remember for you—
grass-grown gravel track away
from constant surge and pass of cars
in bright sunshine; eight ducklings
tumbling in still water beneath the bank;
willow’s huge grateful shade; one tractor
loud-plowing this last possible acre
among apartments, hospital, shopping mall


18 may

all ducklings aground
in hidden huddled shelter;
gust-ruffled water


watching the neighbors

dreaming crabapple, pomegranate-bright
paired cardinals, redbud, tulips bobbing
in tattered sunlight—I see people—
outside!—discussing the trim of a tree


how nothing in pendant birch-pods
questing tendril peas nor even flight of bees
suggests an asteroid skimming past
only five times farther than the moon


…but it happened…asteroid info here.



to the playground with dog and daughter
dusk on its gray-day soft falling
we have not been speaking, much

the young dog balking at her leash
we try volleyball with two then three
move on so my eye is caught
by the bird nest, how it grows snug
over and around its branches

a labor of instinct no less than love
to withstand even yesterday’s storm
and certainly tomorrow’s—a thing crafted
stick by stick, thread by thread
has no good reason to fail in any season

makes a habit of staying past resentment
of being patched again by smile and sun
deferring to earthbound need