EarthDay

I
Remember your last
birthday?
We celebrated you
on Resurrection Sunday
as you, too, had
been brought back
from the brink
to love us again.

II
Once I lay down
in sweetgrass
still enough
to feel sparrow’s
wings brush
my cheek-
so still I
heard wild
violets untuck
then nod to
the sun.

III

We celebrated
and you died anyway.

V
I learned it’s
possible to
keep loving the world
even as you
watch a living
thing disappear.

V

We ride slow & Low
on this Turtle’s back.

VI
We roam with our
fainting goats, our
fancy cheese, in our
metal cars, drinking
artisan beer. We
watch our rivers
rise, our mudflats
crack, our fires burn,
our cattle lo, our
neighbors rage
our bombs explode.

VII

I wonder
if we’re vanishing
or only being born
again
and again,
coming true
to our next iteration
of beauty
in the muck.

VIII

You’d say
you don’t know.
You’d love
your lack
of certainty.
You’d sigh
and pull up
a chair, watch
the long rays
of sundown cast
shadows on
your lawn,
smile into my
face, then whistle
your dog in
from the
listing barn.