a linked-verse sequence

spring rain
the way the river banks
mirror each other
ambulance flashing
blood blood blood

green boulders
the hollow gives birth
to a small cloud
under my umbrella too
the smell of cow shit

hairy woodpecker
from trunk to trunk listening
for grubs
a small town of moss plants
brandishing fresh sporangia

big red oak
the rusty nails that saved it
from the saw
spring beginning all over
from the ruins of fall

white-tailed deer
in a sudden downpour
thudding hooves
fog from the river
mountain-climbing made easy

early gnats
dancing up and down
the urge to multiply
valley noise at my back
the sun comes out

humid sun
songbirds all excited
to harass a hawk
a scatter of white hairs
from a porcupine’s belly

rain coming
right past the property line
these pesky flies
pond dark as the sky
stippled with raindrops

hills and valleys
mirrored in the clouds
spring rain
