mid -February storm warning
a good chance of cranes
moving north
i can hear the distant 'gru, gru' calls
in my dreams,
the sound of renewal
seasons turning
or maybe the return of justice
Antigone canadensis as old as mud
as old as the salt in our tears
the robins chuckle in the forest
the brown creeper sings
once an hour
i get up
and check on the black and white dog
who sleeps on the stoop
waiting
autumn rain
clouds descend
the dog pulls on her leash
toward the scent of the world
walk a mile
shoes, no shoes
flip-flops, sandals, slip-ons, lace-ups, work boots, running shoes, walking shoes
no shoes, barefoot
walk a mile in whose shoes
no shoes, your shoes
imagine that world
outside
behind the round house
in exile
next to an incense-cedar:
a rose
about your height
a single bloom simple
sweet
Rosa californica
how many May days
I could calculate
the day I saw you
delicate purple-veined petals
violet anthers
your presence in the world
openings filled
with your offspring
Blepharipappus scaber
god's dog in a December meadow in this life
everything ends every moment counts
and she remembers
her puppies their fathers the moon-filled nights
everything ends
now out in her meadow the ravens and eagles pull
at her muscle
now her front leg that pained her so is quiet as
is her voice
everything ends for a moment
her yips and howls ride the wind
what ends only begins again
