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Even Here

January 23, 2007

In the woods wake-robin nods
………. its dark red head and dreams of days
……………….. grown longer, leaving less time
………………………… for sleep; foam flower and violets

towel heavy dew from the backs
………. of their leaves, modesty always
……………….. in mind; and bear begin to move about
………………………… in this new warmth, nosing beneath

fallen logs, rubbing the last of winter’s
………. wooly-itch against beech and red oak.
……………….. At the bottom of the hollow, a sow,
………………………… who nursed her cubs through the dark

months of closed eyes, peers into
………. the streambed, sees in her own
……………….. urgent reflection the movement
………………………… of native brook trout, the hunger

of her patience. Before she can
………. capture the first, her cubs, like any
……………….. young, come splashing, spoiling
………………………… the quiet of the pool.

by Todd Davis (also here)

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  1. January 30, 2007 at 4:42 pm

    I loved this poem and I didn’t even know who wrote it until I reached the end. Thanks, Todd.

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