The cow pasture and starlingsthat settle all at once like a blanket,dark raisins over the cows’ heads,                                    *lone goose, flying down riverthird violin, does it hope to catch up                                    *did it not notice the gathering,others heaving themselves from the pond?                                   *third violin in the shadow ofthe violas, who would like to be a viola                                    *rich-voiced as a blue-tick coonhound.                                    *In February, sun edges the tree trunkslike a talent still to show itself,maybe the third violin would slide intothe seconds,                                    *the adolescent in “Personal Use Typing”realize she could slow down and make no mistakes,                                    *an acceptable skillfor the world of work.                                    *When a new chicken was introducedshe was first boss of the flock but now they allget along: scrutinize my boots,mittened hand reaching into the grain pail,                                    *the radius of a white bowl.                                    *To see them together is to forgetone was the boss, one ate a mouse,one was intent on finding seeds                                    *in the curved wrists of the maple roots.                                    *The latch on the front door opensas you bring in firewood, blows openthe back door                                    *  sends cats up the walls of the mudroomto cling to the shelfwith its faded bottle of soap bubbles,                                    *an empty wand, frozen, open-mouthed,                                    *March, all that deceptive lightbut no fruits yet.