My mother saw the green tree toad
on the window sill
her first one
since she was young.
We saw it breathe

and swell up round.
My youth is no sure sign
I’ll find this kind of thing
tho it does sing.
Let’s take it in

I said so grandmother...

I married

in the world’s black night
for warmth
                  if not repose.
                  At the close—
someone.

I hid with him
from the long range guns.
                  We lay leg
                  in the cupboard, head
in closet.

A slit of light
at no bird dawn—
                  Untaught
                  I thought
he drank

too much.
I say
                  I married
                  and lived unburied.
I thought—

What horror to awake at night
and in the dimness see the light.
               Time is white
               mosquitoes bite
I’ve spent my life on nothing.

The thought that stings. How are you, Nothing,
sitting around with Something’s wife.
               Buzz and burn
               is all I learn
I’ve spent my life on...

He lived—childhood summers
    thru bare feet
then years of money’s lack
    and heat

beside the river—out of flood
    came his wood, dog,
woman, lost her, daughter—
    prologue

to planting trees. He buried carp
    beneath the rose
where grass-still
    the marsh rail goes.

To bankers on high...