Unfurl

hope like arugula sprouts
big enough to be seen
from a second-floor window

*

cat out and leap-chasing
shadows—sparrow, crow,
flick/sway of still-bare branches

*

water wind-rippled in bird baths
sometimes sun-shimmered, reflecting
on redbud bark

*

that april blizzard and how
we could see again
smooth-swirl snow on rooftops,
dollops on red-budded trees

Advertisements

the world tells you again

in this fountaining the flutter
wing-dust and scattered
seed, greening

why should you not return
to heartening beneath
your one-note lament

and need for salt don’t say
it’s always the same
for when have you ever noticed

roses blown open to rain
robins food-screeching
in your window-tree?

on wanting to share “To Earthward”

a day of sudden hard light:
we’ve grown so tired
watercolor gray, so
with each visible sunbeam
we anticipate snow melting
on the verge, imagine the bee-
house warming and all green
pushing from the other side,
touch to touch, still seeking
wisdom’s communion
but tree-tough, immune
to frost, to blossom

You can read Frost’s “To Earthward” here.

napo2018button1

img_3219

April Gifts

i.

the cardinal sudden like words
from a friend, bright unexpected
against leafless sky, same sweet
song and soul-balm

ii.

not faith but a kind of pride, your belief
every day should offer something
like this dirt finally warming,
hand-crumbled, enough?

iii.

if the pansies survive
this record cold, it is no god’s bow
to the balance due, nor even
to your impatience

napo2018button1