BIODIVERSITY

PAUL WILLIS

Red, White, and Blue

 

                                                                       

In early March, the toyon berries hang

in embers, fading under pale explosions

of ceanothus—a froth, a kindling,

winter offering itself to spring.

 

We walk beneath their intertangling,

unsure of this season in our lives.

 

Then overhead, a scrub jay passes

suddenly from bough to bough,

for that one moment hidden

in its own allegiance to the sky.

 

—from Rosing from the Dead (WordFarm, 2009)