morning fog

woken by a text
about birds

storm cellar

one last Mason jar
of white lightning

bend in the road

an indigo bunting
dries his wings

dancing flames

a ruby-throated hummingbird here and gone​

dancing flames

a ruby-throated hummingbird here and gone​

night barn

a field sparrow singing
in his sleep

spring kitchen

one garlic head’s 
green tongue

Roundtop

a linked-verse sequence

thinking

the barn is a tree 
clever squirrel

gloom

lifting without lifting within

rebuilding the nest

another spring house phoebe​

Winter Forest

Visiting Dad’s grave yesterday, I had a strong sense of his absence amid the fundamental indifference of nature.