Jupiter and Mars

almost touching 
the whippoorwill

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.

rain crow

when did the back of my hand 
turn strange?

green again

this dream of endless mountains

lady’s-slipper

alone in the forest 
her green shawl

cowbird song

a drop of rain for each 
newborn leaf

such greedy

red appendages 
born-again maple

waning moon

the angels didn’t fall 
they were pushed

spring kitchen

one garlic head’s 
green tongue

snow in April

a face pressed against 
the train window

big wind

lost in the small hairs 
of hepaticas