Nobody told the morning to arrive
or the vans
to empty
or the tractor’s ripper
to split
the earth & everything else.
The pre-work
to bury bulbs: sack to hand to below.
How we protect the eyes
of children
during horror movies.
Car after car after car after semi pass
downroad,
yet nobody
recalls
the widening root
of the masked,
nor
a radio report of patchy fog
along irrigation
canal
switchbacks,
only the peacock who roosts
the spine of an orchard,
a manic witness
to illuminate
a migrating cosmos.
