Hear It Passing

Dove’s crisp salute will return soon,
Her obstinate wrinkle rasping.

There’ll be that first night warm enough
To call out the outdoor chorus

And then it won’t be just the one
Solitary in the firewood

Lugged into the house, bewitched
By a warm room within winter,

Then it will be more legs and more
Chirruping faster and faster,

And it will be one more summer
Lifetime rubbing legs together.