Rain or Shine Garden

A perfectly ripe Jersey
tomato color seeps
from a pen. A knit

cap worn in the middle
of May and a pair
of capris too. No

socks—ripe
or not. No word
on when the next

weather pattern
will arrive.

Depot Upper Deck

A spider
plant clings
to her
hair then lets
go. Up wooden

stairs to a higher
viewing ground. Buds
to become
leaves. Then
go off

while she waits
for the right
words to compress
into a pot
for later

use. Wanders
across borders
with dirt
sculpted into
velvet vignettes

with small tails.

This is
finally it—
tiny green buds begin
to break along most tree branches.
So poised.

Fuel leaks out
all over the tarmac
beneath the left wing.
Sandbags. Fire trucks.
Another night
in Austin. Back home
it’s still snowing.

I must revise
my opinion of you. Beautiful—

not terrifying. Tiny and fast and
docile and determined. The calmness

of the Colorado River and Lady Bird
Lake settles as the sun sets.

And we in the boat wait
for you

with your long fingers
and clinging wings to wake. Much chirping

and preparing in the roost before you
emerge from under the Congress

Avenue Bridge to swarm
above the tree line—a 25-mile trek

each way for your nightly
feeding. I must revise.