Joyce Sidman

I.  Spring We burst forth, crisp green squads bristling with spears. We encircle the pond. II.  Summer Brown velvet plumes bob jauntily. On command, our slim, waving arrows rush toward the sun. III.  Fall All red-winged generals desert us.  Courage clumps and fluffs like bursting pillows. IV. Winter Our feet are full of ice. Brown bones rattle in the wind. Sleeping, we dream of seed-scouts, sent on ahead.

sun sunwarm sunwarm on back sunwarm on back legs sunwarm on back legs loosens my heart my heart beats my heart beats faster in sunwarm my heart beats faster I flex I flex legs I flex legs loose with sunwarm I drink dew from dripping leaves I beat flex crouch leap! What am I? (grasshopper)

Sun slant low, chill seeps into black water. No more days of bugs and basking. Last breath, last sight of light and down I go, into the mud. Every year, here, I sink and settle, shuttered like a shed.  Inside, my eyes close, my heart slows to its winter rhythm.  Goodbye, good- bye! Remember the warmth. Remember the quickness. Remember me. Remember.

I grow in places others can’t, where wind is high and water scant. I drink the rain, I eat the sun; before the prairie winds I run. I see, I sprout, I grow, I creep, and in the ice and snow, I sleep. On steppe or veld or pampas dry, beneath the grand, enormous sky, I make my humble, bladed bed. And where there’s level ground, I spread.

Water nymph, you have climbed from the shallows to don your dragon-colors. Perched on a reed stem all night, shedding your skin, you dry your wings in moonlight. Night melts into day. Swift birds wait to snap you up. Fly, dragonfly! Fly!

Nose tucked under tail, you are a warm, furred planet centered in my bed. All night I orbit, tangle-limbed, in the slim space allotted to me. If I accidentally bump you from sleep, you shift, groan, drape your chin on my hip. O, that languid, movie-star drape! I can never resist it. Digging my fingers into your fur, kneading, I wonder: How do you dream? What do you adore? Why should your black silk ears feel like happiness? This is how it is with love. Once invited, it steps in gently, circles twice, and takes up as much space as you will give it.