Early On A Summer’s Morning
On a maple branch, sits a male cardinal blood-red, and female blood-stain brown. Below, from flower to flower, floats a butterfly with wings of tiger-skin. The last drop of dew enlarges a spider three-fold. A robin splashes in a birdbath. Grass, so soft, is so much the love child of the sun and rain. I emerge from my house-nest. My closest relative is the cowbird, raised in a home built by others.
April Anecdotal
It is April and rain drops out of the sky onto a pop-up canopy of trees. Soon, the land will be upheaving, warping. What was all the one winter will be a number of separate living things. Emerging from under snow, the soil will steal its oxygen as the white drifts thaw. Life that went to sleep empty will awaken as insect swarms.
Flight of the dragonfly 