BUTTERFLY

Crossing the notch at Giant Mountain at first
I'm never certain if the lights and darks I see
Are from the sun and clouds projecting here.
The distribution of tree types has a similar effect.
To make up my mind I have to study how the hardwood stands
Fill up the drained sites and hollows with soft green
While pine and spruce stay solid black on ridges and swamps.

Bright limbs of birch and aspen line the road.
Their leaves on short stems toss and shake in a breeze
And the undersides and tops glint and flicker by turn.
On the sheer side rock outcroppings leave a white slash.

Driving up the old woodlot high maple boughs
Make bold patterns ahead and it happens again.
After all the rain we've had I think I'm looking
At the wet spot where the ditch broke out in flood
And cut slippery gouges deep into the sandy soil.
Under the green tunnel moss grows between the tracks
And compass daisy towers above an open bank.

I dodge a live branch that hangs down
And snaps hard against the metal door.
Fallen in the latest storm a rotted trunk
Is crushed and flattened by the wheels.

Walking to the beach a slender girl in a swimsuit
Steps ahead of me and I have to catch my breath.
Where I place the chair in shade a patch of river
Ripples in sunlight over a bottom of rocks and pebbles.
When I pick up the volume I look immediately for what shape
This verse will take and if the lines are substantial
I expect to find the sure manners of Spender and Auden.

She comes out dripping wet adjusts the strap where it slips
And pulls at the loose fabric clinging between her legs.
The low water in Summer exposes a stretch of sandy shoal
And a white speck skips and glides across the length of it.

Jay NY 7/29/94