I. COLD SPRING DAMP WORLD

I want to sequester myself
In a world of words

Alone but not lonely

My words
Others words

As I pick my way
Through new life and old

II. RETURN OF THE BIRDS

Last night

It was seventy degrees at nine o’clock
We sat on the screened porch
Listening to the Wood Cock’s strange call

This morning

I’ve come to listen by the old beaver dam
Its remnants smooth and gray with age
Resembling the bones of a giant creature

Ruby Crowned Kinglets
Carolina Wrens
Goldfinches
And half a dozen others
Sing their morning song

III. IT’S NOT YET BEACH SEASON

The daily temperatures
Are abnormally high
A young girl
With sun burned legs
Explores the water’s edge

A father and son skip stones
We did that with our boys

Now they’d rather be with their friends
Laughing and joking
Perched at the top the public playground

I sit listening to the lapping of the lake
Contemplating how much we have grown

IV. ANOTHER VIEW

In my search
For greater understanding

I’ve been wandering the woods
Looking for the homes
Of the Barred Owl
The Pileated Woodpecker
And the Oven Bird

V. FULL MOON RAMBLE

The cold settles onto my cheeks
Nips at the tips of my fingers

This is just what I needed
To be here
Breathing deeply

VI. THE FINAL PIECE OF THE ORCHESTRA

Each spring
I try to see the very moment
The leaves emerge

Joining the birds
With their panegyric rustling
Of new life