I am watching shadow patterns
move across the gray roof
of my neighbor’s place,
watching tips of winter trees
begin to show spring’s ochre,
their sharpness go soft, mauve.
I am remembering that today,
driving back roads home, I saw
black swaths of turned earth
ribboning undulating fields
ripe for planting summer wheat.
And I saw jagged, festering cuts,
the serpentine pipes declared safe
for ground water they’ve harmed.
I am watching, remembering,
wondering what will happen
if the hillside’s trees don’t leaf,
if farm fields aren’t fruitful,
if the murmur of the creek
across the road goes silent.
Bonnie Thurston is an award winning poet who has published a book of West Virginia poems calledA Place to Pay Attention. She lives in Wheeling.