KESTRELS COURTING SPRING

 

Nothing sudden, poor dry hills
like thin cows show too much bone,
I look away for a spot of green

in shadows of trees, on north slopes
to weigh our hopes: how many days    left
before it rains? Bankrupt with years

of debt, of dirt exposed, of dust released,
the old oaks have given-up to start over—
to become earth again, and we

make plans to brand another bunch
like Kestrels courting spring, falling
in a flutter before me yesterday:

fourth of February, seventy-seven degrees.
Nothing sudden, we plod against the obvious
knowing nothing stays the same.

 

3 responses to “KESTRELS COURTING SPRING

  1. Very nice. Love those last two lines: “Nothing sudden, we plod against the obvious/knowing nothing stays the same.”

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks, Leonard. Record high temperatures yesterday, the foothills as stressed as I’ve ever seen them. Forecast rain for the weekend that should help, but not near enough to set things straight. I’d sure like to get away from these drought poems.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. ‘we plod against the obvious / knowing nothing stays the same’.
    Just so read the lines of all humankind . . .

    Like

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