Out the window at the top of a ridge walk
three sun brightened deer, deer that live
also in the upside down globe of my eyes,

busy righting everything so as not to worry
me and have my feet in the clouds.

Too late for that correction.

My delight is with blue sky where the tree tops
search for food and squint white clouds
in color-burning-out light hover in brilliance.
It is not even spring but the secret is out too
and the snow that falls now
is from the branches.