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

Day 13: The June Bug

The June bug
not cut out for April
hugs the pen tip I offer
and flips back onto its belly.

Its wings overscissored,
with two legs it drags itself
through the pollen field
of the tabletop,

a wounded soldier,
over a twig, then back,
then over again,
each effort Herculean.

How aimless,
I think.
What a waste
of my mercy.

It has stopped,
nestled between the twig
and the finger of a leaf.
And what of that?

What if it wanted
only to die
right side up
facing west?

Day 11: Art

i won't visit museums
on the internet.

no masterworks for me
please.  art now is

the symmetry
of a cross-stitch,

the consistency
of a leveled cup of flour.

Day 8: Wobble 'Cross the Wire

The physics
of uncertainty
sends the poem parts of me
below,
made scarce,
the rest to better
wobble
'cross the wire.

From bed
to dawn:
the daily toll;
the grocery slot
secured;
a kiss;
collapse at 2am;
all met

with impassivity,
not verse.
The gray-
of-morning bird
attempts
to prise a lyric out,
sings D-C-A.
I check the news.

Day 7: Open Air Factor

as a child i thought

al fresco meant naked
but it did mean that
to me, shirtless and barefoot
toad catcher, grass eater,

al fresco: to listen
with all my downy hairs,
to tap the woodpecker's hollowing rhythm
onto my chest

to linger
in a place full of conversations
whose languages i loved
but never knew

to watch
from the grass
as the twigs--
black against the gray sky--
broke out into fractals.

Day 4: Stay at Home

The new hummingbird feeder is an old mason jar.

The children hunt the tender parts of dandelions. They boil clover tea.

Since the dishwasher broke, we wash by hand; you rinse, I dry.

The bread rises quickly enough.

We thought we needed so much.

Day 3: Gloria

I'm glad you're missing this.
Not only the orange menace at his worst
(The typos, Glo. Your head would explode.)
but this especially.

I imagine you in your spry days, 70, 72,
waiting at the costume shop door
to sew more masks -- the most masks! --
wit and fingers at the ready,

and having to send you away,
safe from the kids and the coeds,
to a pile of mystery books
and a few bottles of Riesling.

Whose sordid college love stories would you listen to?
Who would you wow with flashes
of your bellybutton ring?
Who would keep you young?

Day 2: Enneagram

strange to be reduced to a number.

no.

strange to be
happily
reduced to a number,

a surprisingly accurate reading --
surprisingly?
my tarot also is accurate,

but waiting always
for the Tower to turn
does not excite me anymore.

strange to desire a number,
with keen, steady lines
to rest on.

Day 1: What We Hoard

In the early days of viral catastrophe,

before we snapped up all the chicken and the beef
(to keep us in the manner to which we are accustomed)

or the rice and beans and ramen noodle packs
(our oh shit moment)

we cleared the shelves of safeguards 
(disinfectant spray, rubbing alcohol, hand sanitizer)

and toilet paper.

When apocalypse first hinted it might get real   
we worried not
about our stomachs

but our asses,

flashing Costco cards like birthrights,
piling high the two-ply,

uncleanness
more terrifying a threat than
starvation.

And why not I suppose,

when cleanliness (is close to affluence) is close to godliness is close to holiness is close to salvation.