wren wiping his bill
on the ridgeline of the roof
his mate already brooding
on a second clutch
the first clouds always
look innocent enough
until they open
their rainy mouths
catbird singing out
instructions for assembly
a deer sneezing
from her day bed in the weeds
this is how one gauges
one’s aptitude for silence
in Figure 1 we can see
how the trend lines wander
game trails converging
at the edge of a cliff
at the bottom of which
waves pound or traffic roars
and over there it’s me
with a stick
hunting my lost appetite
on the z axis
