rabbits live under them, snakes
frogs,
a haven of rats, field rodents, fuzz-
creatures—insect webs
unravel deep in new growth about the discarded
limbs
quail run beneath on sight-closed
pathways, a young tree
sprouts shooting up from under mould-
sogged boards
in fingers of brilliance
the earth
weaves in the light
it is an eye sore to those not accustomed
to orderliness
(the quail
crosses the road, watchful
one scurries from premeditated danger)
they wait, another
race like shuttle needles
in the grass
a long thin snake
string of purple ribbon, this runner
was caught yesterday by a car—
we lay it dead in the weeds . . .
rabbits roll in the yard
happy fur clowns
we find their hide places
out from our steps
from secret shutters, they rage
against our intrusion— a field mouse nest
built high among needles of a young pine: ground-babies
the grass children!
how with aggressive eyes they know
our ways