The day stretches         arching cat
and silk spreading the seeds of trees,
swishing and swirling,
a spiral galaxy tattooed on a shoulder,
not quite in the middle.
Stone walk—a pink bloom,
the thirst of the burning sun
that ever pulls us back to the Earth.
Mostly, it’s all ghosts &
a wake of vultures
in my head
        the stars the dirt the rivers. In the wind,
eyes always alert. The vulture heart.
Boulders turn to hills turn to mountains turn to
the limestone ridges near home–
tulip poplar, goldenrod,
all the imperfect roots of our family tree.
In a poem a river writes its story
on the wind reaching
falling leaves …until a sound, a song, a scent—
        it has already begun,
        bigger than any old story.
The cat leaps onto the sill to listen
        & everyone surrenders.
The train slices twilight.
Give thanks as you go.

Composed with lines by Sylvia Ahrens, Jules Unsel, Katelyn Donley Weldon, Kris Gillis, Fanny Hubert-Salmon, Roberta Schultz, Deanna Mascle, Alissa Sammarco, Samantha Renee Ratcliffe, Gaby Bedetti, Kevin Nance, Ellen Austin-Li, Pat Owen, Phillip Corley, Shaun Turner, Eric Scott Stevens, Jim Lally, Nancy Jentsch, Carole Johnston, Linda Freudenberger, Greg Friedman, Mike Wilson, Bill Brymer, Linda Bryant Davis, Pam Campbell, and Arwen C.