Fresh soft moss; high banks
where violets hid:
the lost affordances --

To every rat: the rights
of every kitty. Who'll take ethics
from the furred?

The old trees in line,
ivy-draped, green year-long
as they softly choke

Action and direction --
twins at war,
beyond reconciling

Then the raindrops
dawdled, danced the line,
each a soft diamond

Passing daily, I don't see
the horses. Each day,
they look up, watch me

to be: to rock
over the fulcrum, the pitch
of the felt, the thought

Ice-traced bramble leaf, after
frostfall, as sun steals back:
rough perfection --

Leave the fish to swim, now; leave
the birds unshot; leave all
as once it was. Take leave --

The dead tree lives on
till it falls, rots -- and the forest dines
on itself