Residential Imperative

There, on the clay bank of the
spring-running creek, bright
yellow heads of coltsfoot enliven
the dank arras. The creek swishes
below, bypassing water-logged
and decayed fallen logs from the
awakening forest surround.

Further along the banks, a
helter-skelter composition of
leafless aged trees, rising as does
the ravine to greater levels above
the running water, trunks crisply
green with moss, grey-mottled
and blotched with resident lichen.

Emerging within the undergrowth
among the dogwood and hazelnut
and brush, the wistful spears of
spotted trout lilies. And there, in the
dry leaf-littered soil, the familiar
dainty trillium, shy heads not quite
yet fully revealed, nodding crimson.

On a tree a curious red squirrel leans
forward to make out the fuss below,
of another squirrel confronting a
black opponent, each determining that
this very particular territory is theirs
alone; none others need apply.