quiet here at night
just the heater
on and off
and
off and on
always a wonder
how or why
and
why or how

The bird feeder

woke me from my nap

A constant wind

keeping it from stillness

Do the birds

still feed from it

Or simply watch from afar

until nature calms itself

“why are you collecting rock?’ i asked

“because they’re in my fields,” he said
“i want the crops to grow.”

we were silent a time.

“i also like them heaped at the ends of the rows;
little monuments to labor.”

moisture on the windows
sun entering
soft this time of year
outside a bird calls out
not once
or twice
i do not know when it began
i do not know when it will end