"Perhaps, / if every raised hand were / a tender call, / each roar from the sky / simply a passing spring storm, / each flash in the night / a firefly"
"The homestead that housed a hundred years of earth-workers / and caught crying babes, covered their heads / from cold country nights - it couldn't last forever."
"The tree stands full of starlings, grooves around its base / where cats scratch and foul the earth, furious / the bark won’t hold them when they climb."