In the late morning sunshine,
the fledglings from last year’s nest
perched bravely so that I could
see them from my kitchen window,
lit up, basking, male and female, both.

At the pond, I followed mouse
tracks in the snow,
watched a coyote pounce,
frenzied, snout buried, hard sniffs beneath
the white crust, only to inhale the enticement,
but nothing else.