LEARNING TO LIVE WITH HUMANS

One hundred ten degrees,
a kestrel lights where water sprays
the onion bed and bathes—

then soon its mate,
or so it seems at a distance
in the fuzzy heat.

Now in the morning black
my desk lamp brings
gnats to the window glass,

and tree frogs on a slick,
perpendicular hunt, vying
for positioning, carefully

lifting one foot at a time.
I imagine now the herd
of tree frogs seeking cover

at the kestrels’ landing,
great hops into the thick
onion stems and berry vines

dripping with wonder:
new habits on a timer
every summer evening at six.