vernal coffers of pollen
the fallen plumage of autumn
a spell of ice that drives one home
to fires that blaze overhead in summer
from a term full of blossoms’ feverish aching
to a month when bugs bug and hummers hover
who give way to mottled splotches on maples
to the swifts’ clicking chatter over the elders
to the night one gleans for the first time
a new silence in the empty fields