from the sunrise-facing window
i can see a hummock of disturbed earth
at the base of the oak
yesterday we planted crocus there
poking hazelnut-shaped bulbs
into the dark clay bed
then carefully turning the blanket
of still-green grass back over them
filling the crevices with loosened soil

now as i peer through the panes
into the blue-black dusk
the cold november rain trickles down
laving us in preparation
for the winding sheet of winter snow