NEIGHBORS
The cardinal in my Katsura tree
Stares at my blue spruce
From which a house finch emerges
To chase him up to the roof.
As I walk to the workout gym
A squirrel crosses my path.
I’m of no concern to him,
An acorn within his grasp.
The robin gives me a look
And continues with his quest
Hoping to trace the route
Of earthworms under the grass
As on a nearby birch
A woodpecker hammers his search.
HEADS UP
The snow arrived in April
But it did not kill
The crocuses and snowdrops or
The long-stemmed daffodils.
The daffodils bent over
Compliantly lay down
Accepted their cold cover
Prostrated on the ground.
But in the week that followed
Yellow heads began to rise and
Stems began to straighten.
We rejoiced to realize
That spring was not defeated.
Winter really had retreated.
PLACEMENTS
I’ve grown accustomed to this space
These two big rooms I shared with you
Where in the parking lot they face
I see compadres come and go.
We shared small places, you and I
Two-person tents on river banks
The back porch of a double-wide
Youth hostels where we flung our packs.
But we shared larger spaces too
The canyon’s depths, the river’s run
The prairie’s breadth, the ocean’s blue
The broad earth was our living room.
Now you have sought a distant star
While I am lightly tethered here.
THE COMING OF SPRING
It begins with the house finches
Reclaiming the blue spruce
In early February
Unfazed by lingering inches
Of snow or cold, using
Their last year’s sanctuary.
And then the cardinal calls
From behind the garages.
A crowd of robins assembles
To sample a pear tree’s largesse.
By now it is March. Snowdrops
And purple crocus are showing.
Maples turn red. Willows
Turn yellow. A circle
Of lady bluebirds flies close
To my daughter’s Dunstable windows.
Today is the first of April.
Forsythia blooms beside daffodils.