slate-gray dark-eyed junco only now, mid-afternoon, late October I spot you, rocking boat on flayed forsythia — pale limbs, flagging yellow leaves — another you on withered Queen Anne’s Lace — bendy stalks, umbelled dry flowers — now twenty you spring like bouncing beads from browning grass & weeds all winter you’ll forage near & far undismayed by cold & snow & ice welcome home, you feathery surrogate you mystery marker of circular time