an effort to stem the loss of poetry from everyday life…
one ant doubles back
grabs up the lost bit of bread
what’s undone is done
the end is far off
there is something to be done
but not more than that
the great egret turns,
wind over and under wings,
comes in close, and goes
the sun yawning
drawing uneven lines
stars lying in wait
border of glass
water catching the light
bearable, true