turtleI counted twenty
-seven in the bend
this early morning
the water sideways lit
like jelly in a sunbeam

its surface transparent
from this height.
They swam by last year’s
pomegranates, dry and orange red
on their trees’ bare branches.

And I wondered if our place
as animals on Earth
won’t depend on leaving
the harsh pleasures we admire
to stand in soft wonder with the trout.

 

From Notes From a Mountain Village, forthcoming with Barbican Press in 2015.