smallholding

^{[ Bloodroot, Shenandoah National Park ]}

through low cloud 
jones mountain  
rises rinsed blue         
by terpenoids 
the trees exude

slowly drifting 
toward spring  
maple and beech 
and river birch

in the floodplain   
where rapids split  
quartz colors  

into woodsmoke  
look for me 

            +

if i’m anything  
on this earth 
i am early 
ephemeral  
in the holler

beneath trees 
without leaves 
sun touches 
each pattern

companion  
twinleaf 
toothwort

sharp-lobed 
hepatica 

            + 

the way rain  
stokes the flow 
of the river  
lengthening days 
add intervals  
of light to sky

to be true  
to my season  
you need  
precision

i’m inclined 
in mid-march   
to full sun  
46°

            + 

old fronds 
that ate light 
all winter 
die back scant 
among granite 

new growth  
favors colors 
licked with 
silver down

a bit pink 
like the ear 
of a squirrel

backlit by sun 
i’m like that

            + 


i offer beauty  
also medicine 
also poison 
what i offer  
you depends 

on the right 
approach 
on knowing 
this body 

its logic 
how wrong  
intimacy

would hurt  
both of us

            +

first chestnuts
felled by pests 
then hemlocks 
their longevity  
their liability 

in these hills 
that drift down  
in increments 
what is slow

what is quick  
underground 
the network  

i’m wired to  
our survival

            + 


no capitol 
this province 
of rock rising 
to the ridge 
in the west

no capital  
on this path 
that gains 
altitude only

in this niche 
my smallness 
holds power 

my brief life  
makes value  
 

            + 

the way rock 
in the river 
grows moss  
draw near  

the way fond 
stays close to 
frond and friend  
draw near  
who i am 

where i am 
my mind sinks 
sun in a root  

its slow fire  
veins the earth