A storm obscures the back range
in thick gray clouds. Here we get
only the wind and errant drops
of rain that never reach the ground.

Last year’s bunch grass stands
in the embrace of this season’s green;
its golden shafts with wheat-like spears
rise into molten sun, an army
of light.

Bluebirds flit from aspen
branch into the nesting box hard
won from Swallow-hordes come
late this year.

We’ve tacked reflective
tape on windows and doors to keep
them from dashing themselves on glass,
a mirage of sky and interloper under
the feeder.

Our home’s broken air,
interrupted grass. Our amends
warnings and welcomes, confusion
in gestures of love.

Subhaga Crystal Bacon is the author of two volumes of poetry, Blue Hunger, forthcoming in June, 2020 from Methow Press, and Elegy with a Glass of Whisky, BOA Editions, 2004. She lives, writes, and teaches on the east slope of the North Cascade Mountains in Washington.