for Tom and Martha Burch

Lightly, in the April mountains–
                             Straight Creek,
dry grass freed again of snow
& the chickadees are pecking
last fall’s seeds
               fluffing tail in chilly wind,

Avalanche piled up cross the creek
               and chunked-froze solid–
water sluicing under; spills out
               rock lip pool, bends over,
               braided, white, foaming,
returns to trembling
               deep-dark hole.

Creek boulders show the flow-wear lines
               in shapes the same
               as running blood
               carves in the heart’s main
                                 valve,

Early spring dry. Dry snow flurries;
               walk on crusty high snow slopes
–grand dead burn pine–
               chartreuse lichen as adornment
                            (a dye for wool)
angled tumbled talus rock
of geosyncline warm sea bottom
yes, so long ago.
“Once upon a time.”

Far light on the Bitteroots;
               scrabble down willow slide
changing clouds above,
shapes on glowing sun-ball
writing,            choosing
             reaching out against eternal 
                                           azure–

us resting on dry fern and
                      watching

Shining Heaven
change his feather garments
                overhead.

A whoosh of birds
swoops up and round
tilts back
almost always flying all apart
and yet hangs on!
together;

never a leader,
all of one swift

empty
dancing        mind.

They arc and loop & then
their flight is done.
they settle down.
end of poem.