by Mark Jackley

the German word for sunlight landing on two teachers, women,

fortyish, in the parking lot after school, the children gone,

the first warm air of March coaxing tired smiles and how

from the woods behind the school, even at this distance,

one hears the peepers roaring songs of love in pools

the rains have left and though the pools will vanish in a week

the wingspans of the trees reflected in the water say

all living things must fly, we cannot turn back now