Winter, Seed-Time, Harvest

.

Winter

 .

I

The turn of winter is away.

Life drops, hard

.

on this mute surface.

The house resists, a closed face.

.

We creep and camp

inside the stranger.

.

Eager hearts gape.

Yearning to love

.

is like love;

also like hunger.

 .

II

Is Earth still

ceding heat to space?

.

Night is water

falling from white shoulders.

.

Hot soup, talking all night.

.

Wind looks like the sound

of bells breaking.

 .

III

Shower of red birds on the stones.

.

The sun’s slow stroke laps up the wall.

.

This is love, tracing the fault lines

of a house.

.

Light cracks;

what does dawn break?

 .

Spring

 .

I

Green face unfolding.

.

Birds sing their lovesongs.

.

Ducks are soft mud:

cling together.

 .

II

Wind plucks the wet sky.

.

Groundfall pollen

(i-ching of parrots).

.

Festival of dangerous prediction.

.

Comets screaming in the trees.

.

Stars underfoot.

.

The heavy bees

are hymns.

.

III

White breaks up

lies under bushes.

.

Moths are left behind in shoes.

.

Red fox, wild flower.

.

Birds start up their howl.

.

Leaving –

night touch on your shoulder.

 .

Summer

.

I

Sap heavy, petrified

sound of prehistory:

.

the thwack

of ball games

.

persistent bird chicks

.

blood in your ears

.

the crows slow laugh,

like wings.

.

II

Unsteady

claws scrape a tin roof.

.

Rain runs in tongues

against trees.

.

Wet birds, sticky with black.

.

Summer rain is hot as hands.

.

Full moon –

white mouth at the window.

 .

III

Weeping trees weep angel coats.

.

Amber harvest of insects.

.

Smell of pine and mango

and paper hats;

.

our festivals of fullness

and dying.

.

Fat moon, eye closing.