I make hideous faces with Pearl, we
can contort into monsters only
at four she's not as frightening
as I am at sixty-eight
Scraping razor, fire brand, or ice
I am losing face in layers
the numbing needles hurt.
I cease to follow the procedures to hooking up well to house
I thought an hour ago that it might be soon, water
flowing through familiar pipes
from this new deep source.
I clearly recall the ditch we hand dug to the spring
forty years ago, heavy breasts as nursing mom,
watching the ditch long slit lie open until the pump
was installed, with foot valve mouth into bubbling
water source. I had hauled water
until the house was plumbed
and we rejoiced, got clean.
Red breasted Grosbeak, too big for feeder
manages in spite of bulk, he's red
not only on breast, but brush strokes under feathers.
His place swiftly replaced by red bellied woodpecker
just as ungainly an acrobat.
It rains until red bud blossoms are carpet.
May 14 and 20