swooping calling walking flitting
around me, around the bridge
around the makeshift bird feeder
in the green woods
seven different kinds of birds
a cardinal a redwing blackbird
two chickadees a starling
other birds in shades of purples blues blacks
ducks in pairs and groups
and squirrels, swinging to catch the feeder
moving in conscious patterns
beings everywhere!
the man with a spade on the path
by the stream
calls 'beautiful night, isn't it?'
who knows what he and his mother
are digging from the streambed?
at the end of the path
a long haired cat sits on a fallen tree
rising from a sea of yellow green
and tiny flowers
eyes open, watching me
eyes close, in sleep
this is the night i fall in love again
i was waiting for it
and now it is here
a country you stumble upon
once you stop traveling
for the sake of finding
