3x5 #2


Going
in February --
on a day as good as any --
Like my neighbor's horse neither content nor resigned.

Wires that never meet sing a cold torch song
the eagle whose field this is sits silhouetted on frozen lightening, 
black against white sky.

Wind late arriving
shifts sage shadows that define the sun
field mice stare 
Daffodils sleep -- their stone
not yet rolled away.
.