Day 23: Earth Day

is this the ungentle earth
tumbling us backward
having humored us too long

raising one tired brow
as we proclaim (again)
our victories:
immunity
preparedness
m a c r o e c o n o m i c  s t a b i l i t y

we who crowned ourselves masters
of knowing
needing
deserving

we
so certain
we are
certain?

is this the bitter earth
cuffing us,
sprawling,
into the dust
to which we belong?

Day 17: Hammock

Beneath the forest's opera -
the arias we come for,
the birdsong, the trill of sticky footed frogs -
tics the workaday music:
the rustle and toc of hundreds of miniscule fallings,
raindrop steady but not rain;
supper seeds cracking,
thirsty buzz and hum,
the muted conversation of the trees.

Day 16: Spoon

a blade of frosty sunlight
rests white against
your shoulder
plush
as the blanket
beneath which
we curl 
one shape
a dark soft core 
like a Sunday morning
sweet roll
warm and dripping
glaze