a pair of robins pluck earth
worms between blades
of freshly cut grass. One
hops, dances, loosens
soil & disrupts wiggler
sleep. The second follows
behind – tugs, pulls, flings
the worms like boomerangs
loosed from her golden beak.

Yesterday I caught a dry spell
just enough to trim the front yard
back to an acceptable height. I’m glad
I took that moment then so I can
take this moment now – pause
on the porch, enjoy the show, cheer
for the orb weaver vaulting over
weathered railroad ties into framed
flower beds to escape the carnage.