early spring

the first pink sprig
of a snake’s tongue

question mark butterfly

my shadow
taking the shot

the shock of recognition

ant gallery

now that it’s just my winter

mud dauber nests

fisher tracks

the swaying shadows
of trees

two-day snowstorm

rodent teeth find
something to gnaw

no jets

for hours the sky
unlined

crow mimicking

a crow hunter’s
crow call

no visitors

to track up my snow
mourning dove wings

out before dawn

the perfect fit of foot
to footprint

thirsty dog

the pond’s ice creaks
under her weight

old jawbones

lying at right angles—
my camera is a phone