Outside,
the air strums like a guitar,
rings like a bell.
The weight of a butterfly
starts a yellow-eyed
daisy bobbing—
a fat bee bounces off the screened back door.
Yesterday
I watched a tan rabbit
hop from the woods
to the bell-flower patch lining the garden.
He sat—
sniffing the air,
quivering,
before darting through
the yard to vanish
beyond the thickest hedges.
