Yesterday the Fox Flew (from the journal)

 

There was a deer here last night.

The pokeweed is gone,

nibbled to a nubbin.  6-1-13

What is the one thing?  Breathing.

This morning even the warm breeze

breathes.  6-1-13

The first 17-year cicada sings.

He’s far away and

there is no answer.  6-2-13

The drowsy squirrel rouses

when the hawk flies

under his branch.  6-4-13

Sharon’s shadow falls flat.

Myrtle’s shadow falls sideways.

My shadow doesn’t fall at all.  6-4-13

Cut off from earth and water,

a garland of round greenbrier leaves

lives on air.  6-5-13

Catbird is chasing

mockingbird in the crab apple.

Swallowtail gets out of the way.  6-8-13

A drop of white poop

from the thick spot in the hedge.

Wren, not moving.  6-8-13

Swallowtail has found

all the vine honeysuckle

I missed. 6-11-13

Columbine’s seed pods

are turning brown, the same

color as the little chipmunk

that walked over my toe.  6-12-13

Cold today.

Blue jay complains.

Catbird is quiet.  6-19-13

Rock cress mustard is finished now.

Columbine has the pot to herself.  6-19-13

Columbine’s leaves rust over

the rain-pocked chalk.

Patio table still life.  6-20-13

Two catbirds,

a nest in the thick place

between the two myrtles.

Little calls give it away.  6-23-13

Yesterday the fox flew through twice.

The second time, he stopped

for a drink.  6-25-13

A gray morning.

Redbird speaks.

The first rosy sharon catches a carpenter bee.  6-27-13

The wall of green has a hole. 

It used to be full of stars.  6-29-13