Spring

Old Willow Woman

wakens the frogs with her song—

shimmering green notes.

Pheasant

in mid-flight

pheasant plummets earthward

shotgun blast

faded photograph

strangers’ faces peering out

from 1920

hungry earth mover

big yellow Caterpillar ®

chowing down mountains

blizzards of passion

forty full snow moons ago

we were twenty-one

ten below zero

forsythias still shuttered

even at high noon

sand-castle building

seven days at Newport Beach—

insatiable waves

her bitter tears

scalding the red tulips

April showers

freeing

the trembling wren

from my heart

fragile crumbs of hope

brushed from the table of God

take, eat, remember