wind shoots dark swirls of leaves
into the gray and rain,
over traffic and down into the yard,
over the fire pit and into the garden
we’ll sleep there,
crow stamped and dog sniffed,
snow blossomed and frost caked
we’ll tease fleshy snake roots
and cold slothful bugs
with toothy smiles and bony wits
in dew spring morning, we humans—
sunray warm, covered with fungus,
ripe humus, fertile breathing—
rise
