No efts as yet, though soil’s warmed enough
to coerce lively arthropods to coil beneath
downed boughs in fungus’ froth-like rot,
stump-stuck in muddy, greening muck.
And no phoebes yet, although the bees
bungle into budding fruit-tree leaves
to tussle at each newly unlatched flower.
For they can’t wait. They’ve wakened
and must have nourishment, they hum,
encumbered by their pressing need.
Lately, sun’s warmth feels hidden,
as if bidden by cloud and rain to stay
at some remove; nevertheless, mild nights
urge amphibians to move, to seek out
dark moist nooks. Efts can travel far.
And phoebes may return. They may.
Ann E. Michael lives in eastern Pennsylvania. Her latest poetry collection is Abundance/Diminishment. Her work has appeared in Ninth Letter, Shenandoah, Ekphrasis Review, and many others, as well as in numerous anthologies, six chapbooks, and two previous collections. She chronicles her writing, reading, and garden on a long-running blog at www.annemichael.blog
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