In a few minutes the sun will crest the mountains with
a scatter of gun shots like firecrackers from our neighbor's fields
and over ours a tatter of geese loud and in disarray
will send songbirds to form clouds, crows to caw calamity, squirrels to shake treetops.
And I will head to the garden to lift
the shrouds draped last evening to forestall
other inevitable endings.