“A dinosaur.”

Said with a dismissive tone, as if it should’ve known the sky was glass.

indigo bunting corpse

indigo bunting corpse / in front of my door / shockingly blue

throwing his voice

throwing his voice so the woodstove warbles—Carolina wren

spring snow

forty blackbirds gurgle & creak in the ash tree

their calls must’ve changed

no hint of Canada now in these local geese

dead sharp-shinned hawk

only its inner eyelids have fallen shut

mares’ tails

a sharp-shinned hawk cuts through my trance