Opening the Barn Door: March

Opening the Barn Door: March   

after Jorie Grahm’s (Teresa: Saint Teresa of Avila)

                                                I’m trying to lean into those

                marshes and hear

what comes through clean,

                what comes through changed,

having needed us.

How to Graze:

                lips inside the slight salt the small

                spring blades blew on to the root blew

                through tide-out mud crust the early

                wader birds flirt between seen

                not seen and he (it’s just now

                spring)

                free from a December to now all

                day through high tide to low

                and shoots whose hairs resist

                to being pulled though let go

                turning (hear it?) masticated then

                to the dark throat of tenure

                owning own oh living this is

                impossible, what? owed? or

                is it going through broken

                on a winter limit line

                and eyeballing a repair

                for late spring once the snow is old

                news once the nose grazing through

                choice new shoots, new

                perks at those wader birds

                blows out short, walks on

                phased as a new moon