it became difficult to tell

by Vincent Hisock

it became difficult to tell
 i: kitchen light

Yearling
pine with a spring lean from late winter’s freezing

rain.  The pines bend in their
remembering, but still stand straight enough

in this new breeze
tossing them.  A misled

guess draws
pale wings set

in flight swept up
upon air

to the bright-lit window behind a man watering his
lawn at night—these

multiplied, suburban
moons.