by Judy Katz-Levine
One year I saw a white toad,
another year the deer came
and gnawed our weeping cherry tree.
I thought you did the tearing but it was
the deer. You tried to save the tree
and it blossomed with white stars
and leaves like verdant lips.
One day I saw mourning doves on the wire.
Then driving home in the late afternoon
in the sunset an osprey rose
into the cypress by the park.
I thought you knew, but you didn't you
were busy inventing with wires.
One summer I saw a black snake
scissoring the water the runes
of ripples spelled my name.
* * * * *
Judy Katz-Levine's new book, , was published by Word Press late 2018 and is available on Amazon. Of the book, the publisher says "The Everything Saint shows us the holy in the ordinary, and Judy Katz-Levine is a faithful guide to such wonders." Her recent poetry and translations have appeared in Writing In A Woman's Voice, Miriam's Well, Salamander, Blue Unicorn, Ibbetson Street, Event Horizon, Peacock Journal, and many other venues. Also a jazz flutist, she enjoys playing at jam sessions.