In the cold shed sharpening saws.
a swallow’s nest hangs by the door
setting rakers in sunlight
falling from meadow through doorframe
swallows flit under the eaves.
Grinding the falling axe
sharp for the summer
a swallow shooting out over.
over the river, snow on low hills
sharpening wedges for splitting.
Beyond the low hills, white mountains
and now snow is melting. sharpening tools;
pack horses grazing new grass
bright axes----and swallows
fly in to my shed.
Fur the color of mud, the smooth loper
Crapulous old man, a drifter,
Praises! Of Coyote the Nasty, the fat
Puppy that abused himself, the ugly gambler,
Bringer of goodies.
In bearshit find it in August
Neat pile on the fragrant trail, in late
August, perhaps by a larch tree,
Bear has been eating the berries.
high meadow, late summer, snow gone
Blackbear
eating berries, married
To a woman whose breasts bleed
From nursing the half human cubs.
Somewhere of course there are people
collecting and junking, gibbering all day,
"Where I shoot my arrows
"There is the sunflower's shade
---song of the rattlesnake,
coiled in the boulder's groin
"K'ak, k'ak, k'ak!
sang Coyote. Mating with
humankind---
The Chainsaw falls for boards of pine,
Suburban bedrooms block on block
Will waver with this grain and knot,
The maddening shapes will start and fade
Each morning when Commuters wake---
Joined boards hung on frames,
a box to catch the biped in.
and shadow swings around the tree
Shifting on the berrybush
from leaf to leaf across each day
The shadow swings around the tree.