where the oak

split off from its lost half open mouthed

Fog walker

fog walker 
the millipede’s carpet 
of legs

hot hike

wearing my halo 
of poison

lost dog (linked verses)

lost dog 
enchanter’s nightshade burs 
in its ears

hot tub

laid bare in the woods a junkie’s pale face​

sunset gold

under umbrellas a buzzing phone​

ghost pipes

sweating through the longest day of the year​

first heat wave

a black bear’s clawprints 
in the mud

Jumpseed leaf (linked verse sequence)

vireo holding forth
on a verse from vireo

Memorial Day

a red squirrel raging 
above the grave

millipede

fear spiralling 
in my hand

In black cherry time

This is what happens as soon as I stop walking, my daily habit: I become habitat.