Scattering of blackbirds at night in a hemlock.
Locust bark strewn for 30 yards of firewood taj.
Incense and candlelight, steam heat and electric blankets.
Radio Paradise. Nail, weedeaters, trimmers. Thatches of orchard grass.
Blooming redbud I used to climb. Grave of Jill, the final turkey setter.
Streaming prayer transmission on infinite bandwidth.
Green-gold glare of sudden possum eyes caught in bronze argon lights.
Daffodils crushed by truck tires pulling another load.
Faith at work, treetops waving in March breezes.
Snugged under four blankets as frost jewels forsythia.
Fried egg and orange cheese and mayo on wheat rounds.
Wrists plunged in hot soap dishwater with a copper scour pad.
Mountains so near in sumi painting mist.
Bluejay and cardinal and homing pigeon on the flagpole.
Soldiers with night vision in the wildlands north of Kabul.
My father curled up like a drowsy fetus in Special Care.
~ Craig Shaffer 03.27/2011