water standing
in a raccoon footprint
from here
Plummer’s Hollow Run
deer fence
a sudden understory
of shrubs and forbs
protected from deer
for nearly two decades now
this plot thickens
Smilax
they say her thorniness drove a man
wildflowery
The Hollow (12)
a self-closing gate
among 200-year-old oaks
its rusty note
smothered in leaf duff
the violet’s self-fertilized
alter ego
ah to be
both dapper and invisible
striped wintergreen
ignored by
a pileated woodpecker
the dust from her drill
The Hollow (13)
downy rattlesnake
plantain leaves
always a start
still twisted
from its rush to leaf out
lady’s-slipper orchid
the blue-headed vireo’s
vireo vireo
sounds blue now
pale pipes scorched
and straightened by sex
corpse plants
The Hollow (14)
off-trail in the woods
in spiderweb season
walking mindfully
a loop of grapevine
rising from the horsebalm patch
the scent of lemons
fall warbler
I pish as if fluent
in bird mysteries
all its offspring
on the other side of the deer fence
the big pine
The Hollow (15)
touch-me-not
the invasive stiltgrass stops
just short of it
glasswort
jumpseed
enchanter’s nightshade
a distant rooster
that gurgle we dug
this pit to reach as kids
it’s still down there
wingstem
at the old dump site
the bumblebee’s long tongue
The Hollow (16)
tree branches grow
no lower than deer can reach
woods’ edge
rock piles
from the 19th century
the oak’s massive crown
right-of-way
the power pole all scratched up
by bears
hayscented fern
losing ground to goldenrod
a circling monarch
The Hollow (17)
where we fought many
a rotten tomato battle
common snakeroot
lawn and gardens gone
back to meadow
the buildings’ straight lines
no more turning
even the electric meter
is digital now
barn that once
housed an elephant
its great grey-green roof
The Hollow (18)
ghostly dock leaves
pressed against the window
old chicken house
gone but for their grins
our childhood collection
of mummified rats
once my best
climbing teacher
broken-limbed maple
stone wall
all the times
I’ve rebuilt it
The Hollow (19)
spring house
still keeping the milk-
snakes cool
the view from my childhood
bedroom window
I live in it now
that walnut sprout
we tried to kill with a frisbee
eating in its shade
cattails
overwhelmed by tearthumb
the purpose-driven life
The Hollow (20)
one katydid
this late in the season
texting my wife
migrant flycatcher
swiping its beak back and forth
on a bare branch
a plastic toy football
unearthed by the summer floods
all the stream’s voices
rain-softened ground
even the gravel road
has a bit of give