oh, oyster catcher

that wraps me in warmth and love

in hopes of french fries

symmetry of days

strands of kindness, grace, and love

in hopes of french fries

this night sky that comes

it appears, just at my feet

lullaby buzzing

the death of my friends

sipping dew of torch lilies

reflect and renew

some of these rivers

shelter me with your branches

shoot; despite ourselves

oh, cedar waxwings

bring brown creepers to focus

small bubbly fractals

a beautiful gift

completely immerse yourself

wrapping around beams

there exists nothing

are now weeks past their season

when I am present

three generations

to sit and watch little swifts

cherish these last leaves

rain in the winter

configurations of flight

hundreds of years old

generosity

to comfort devastation

preparing to bloom

this hug was intense

your little arms, unaware

watch me; smile at me

you take off and fly

paint the histories of tides

to look up — skyward

you still have that dream

found in every little

breath in this wildwood

in just one moment

I see you and your colors

are we not of space?

breadcrumbs of sunbeams

on dead branches among clouds

orientation

sometimes we muster

do seek out that which blends in

what currents we make

immerse all of you

turbulence with breath, movement

clouds splash on my feet

on the wire, one wire

claim the branch, caw to below

Pisano petals

you do amaze me

I will reach with all my time

like a point in space