When you can only take photos from the window
(in self-isolation from covid-19)
I had forgotten how much light there is in the world till you gave it back to me
Ursula Le Guin A Wizard of Earthsea
you can be caught easily by a showy redhead grevillea
the fancy filagree sprays of white Fiddlewood florets
the yellow curl of aspen’s hint of autumn
you can be caught by the one native miner
that flies in cute and curious
and snap it from every angle with each flit of wing
yet in the window frame of my mind
it is greenery that speaks to us today
with constancy of presence
how its algorithm of leaf space
pattern and deft design
underscore artisry
how it covers the ground
when left untamed patient when trimmed
how it begins again never gives up
a grass tortoise of the fable
it’s slow slog up trellis over pipes
down walls
resolute against drought fire plague
how it regenerates never resiles
to come back
and how the most insignificant–
titled weeds break through black plastic
distort concrete and pavement
to find the crack
the crack to get back
the light that beckons carry on
it reminds me
how first green shoots
of snow bells spear apart dark soil
how moist green worlds
congregate in alcoves of rock
in the hottest of deserts
and how the play of light
shadows
slants
shines
giving us a thousand shades of green
