shadbush

pale as the memory
of shadbush

jumping spider

pressed flat except for
its arc of eyes

ancient street tree

all its alternative routes
marked X

dog sniffing

past the trailing arbutus—
coyote scat

throbbing

a hundred ways at once—
wood frog party

spring equinox

the tracks of the wind
have yet to melt

mountainside

echoing with tundra swans
a dead deer

quartzite

on a warm winter day
the absence of bees

trapped in ice

the cattails shape-shift
into clouds

Audubon walk

admiring a pheasant’s
dismembered foot

such flakes

they can’t possibly be gathering
all on their own

mass extinction

all the empty beds
standing on end