Near to April
Fools
Thursday late, below me
geographically, the
wind
pushes up into the pel-
vis of Canada’s split
clouds.
Both roll and roll
as though it wasn’t
just
last week they’d been
seen meeting in the trees
still too bereft of seed to
see.
One day, be ready, a
baby may push through
and who, seduced by
arriving from last
and early November
birds will notice, will
cup
the waxy wet head
to prevent it’s fall or
at least take it oh, oh
noiseless to piling
snow?
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