afternoon sun
the wake of a mallard
flickers on the birch

spring thaw —
under the hemlock
a handful of feathers

first warm day —
torn caution tape
at the trailhead

another spring
the nameless shoot
still nameless

spring rain —
speaking of the dead
in a softer voice

dinner alone . . .
the neighbour’s cat comes ‘round
to do the dishes

amid plum blossoms
my son and I
speak of recovery

spring thaw
a new spider
in the mailbox

Arlington
the tulips
wide open

spring chill
I search for the phone number
of a missing friend