such a good old horse

this riderless body

moon-gazing

sad face circled
by a moth

turning over a new rock

black bear

July’s white heat

blossoming wintergreen

gypsy moths

finding each other
without mouths

taking it slow

through the humid forest
yellow plasmodium

fallen

bird’s nest of roots
nowhere to turn

trailside camp

the Indian cucumber root’s
second story

stopping for the view

an inchworm’s pure green
on my hat brim

coffin-shaped spring

the plucked banjo string
of a tanager

rain still falling from the trees

wood thrush song

the millipede’s carnival colors

I forget where I am