Since February, three friends of mine have been diagnosed with…
The birches dizzy me, shaking down
their mint and white confetti crowns around
the Scarlet Tanager, a trilling sky-high king:
red come orange, come black, come green.
From this forest freshed with song,
a goose lay drawn, opened
in a field ringed in feathers—
orange come red, come black, come green.
The coyote cast a wing
and three coronets
back to feign molting,
a confetti whorled white come red, come green.