The Interloper

that seventh spring (for the first time)
there was a gentle shower with light, fickle winds

so many flowers in bud —
the bloodroots fresh against new leaves,
the juneberries more noticeably white
in that subdued light of late afternoon

the usual characters were there (nuthatch and downies)
but three were unexpected…

she wore a t-shirt and denim shorts;
her height and figure
(and the length of the hair down her back)
could have been yours at 20

she stood on the overlook
just above the tree’s bleeding heart,
and, above her, perched a pair of vultures

she noticed me moving and left
following the bluff ridge east;
I kept my distance but would take the same path

upon reaching the heart, that black pair
startled me with their sudden departure;
for a minute, I saw her again,
but when I veered from the bluff ridge trail,
the shower intensified