Everything Talks to Everything Else When We’re Not Looking
Tree holding up its yellow leaves.
The next week, circle of yellow
on the grass, tree trunk plunged into
the center. Rolled hay standing in
spools in a half-emptied field,
grasses high behind it, ready to
be gathered. Light that returns
when the wind wakes up, and tiny
spider with orange and black striped
legs that crawls out from beneath
the handle of my car door just as
I’m about to get back inside.