sun summoning from a white sky
the ridgetop oaks’ fuzzy shadows
gnomons enough to mark
the summer solstice
in one patch of half-sunlight
a box turtle’s red eye blinks
while a scarlet tanager flutters
in the canopy on dark wings
how cool the ghosts
of burning forests have kept us
it’s late morning and i’m still
in long sleeves
a breeze pages through the oaks
a revelation of caterpillars
and the tanager is a quick study
warbling as he hunts
one tree bears a vertical slit
of sky and leaves
crossed by a wide scar
straight through the heartwood
where two intertwined trunks
failed to fuse
and this cross made by a cross
bears an immense green crown
as it should for standing up
to all our weather
eyelids drooping i walk on
into a summer afternoon
the field has its sparrows
and the eastern wood its pewees
but i am melancholy as a catbird’s
parody of a wood thrush
for true refinement can only
be learned from the masters
which is perhaps why the sun
in firefly season
models itself after
that glowworm the moon
