Winter watchers

 

As a girl

I learned

to name them

by their leaves

Now I play

a new game

looking for clues

in the snow

walnuts

and helicopter seeds

I know the

capillary anatomy

of the oak

and the twiggy broom

of basswood

The wine-red branches

of the crabtrees

The eyes of the aspen

are watching

warily

and high

in the clouds

a hawk cries