for Sion
i.
yellow as green first cut
sprung from dark world spinning past winter
comes visible / some buried forgot
arrows shot / blindly smug
wiggling roots in muddy shoes

       ii
honestly honesty / fake flock
weedy / purple two thirds pink
demure currency / not yet minted
unhidden everywhere

iii
what secret knowledge you have digested worms
and wisdom / to chew earth
and cleverly cast mysterious clusters
once here / now gone

  iv
folded herons try not to imitate anything
their sign is not keep off the grass / it says very clearly
do not notice / no more to see / done

v
I speak suburban crow / cau cau cau
they answer
I try to speak river crow / they wait
not crow / they hunker / not crow
she’ll go

            vi
here’s a tree hollowed out for years / mushroomed /
even ivy barely hanging on / branches
thick as elephant legs with cannon ball wounds
clean through to the other side /
here’s a tree where impossisble carries on
a wren adds impossible to silence
I can only look so long

Poem and photograph by Jo Mariner