In Plain Sight

Ancient of days, old eskered land,                                                                  rivered and laked, strewn With stone                        and seeded with hemlock, hickory, oak,

Alder with an appetite for meadow,                                                                  meadow with a hunger For rain, rain with a passion                                                      for thunder, fire, whatever comes next,

I'm getting on                            and what I know wouldn't fill an acorn cap, Doesn't grant me the warrant                                                          to search beyond the plain-sight details—

Slug, turtle, snake in the grass,                                                          fox among the sea-oats, Cottages, overturned kayaks, the not-yet-blooming                                                                                                 lupine,

And a skunk body undone, its tail                                                                 glued to the lawn, Its black eyes alive with ants, its pelt torn clean through.

Judge, panel of judges, are you listening?