The French door between the bedroom and the kitchen looks out back
    Onto the little bit of wilderness lovingly untended
        Intended for the half-feral municipal creatures hemmed in .

Caverns lie below the sod amongst the bamboo root–runners
    That zigzag like rebar framing the topsoil above the clay ;
        The protective grasses impart a landing of stability .

Underneath the bamboo, honeysuckle and wisteria
    Forest parallel to the house, brown thrashers scratch at dead leaves
        For grubs and scavenging insects that burrow the wet debris.

Distant woodpecker jack-hammering echoes on the dank air
    As two squirrels gallop along the canopy on the left side:
        A pear, a poplar and a phalanx of pines piercing the sky .

Various birds zero in and radiate out on a loop
    To gorge from the feeder always full on the neighbors brick fence,
        As the pine shadows march across the yard, elongating .

In the midst of the parade towards dark, in the door crevice
    A small green lizard scratches out into the sun to recharge;
        The ruby disk of his throat balloons out in self-promotion .

A mockingbird fans his wings with mechanical staccato,
    The white patch a beacon to a like–minded mockingbird grey
        Under the puffy cumuli floating in the vernal blue .

The crosshatch spring breeze animates the plum trees, filtering light
    Dappled on the ground into kaleidoscopic monotones—
        Shifting like a hive on a honeycomb, treasure underneath .

Bird chatter continues into dusk but settles with the night ;
    Although, some wake just then to witness the nighttime crossroads
        Of opossum, fox, and the raccoon that fell off the roof once .

*[ WSB ]_.