March Bloodroot

To be nearly invisible

is to be near to all,

because most of the world

is a hidden story,

close to the ground,

with fine print that 

almost disappears.

Someone or another

has always been here before,

lived through many Februarys

which is when so many

take leave of their

sides and causes and give

them over warm to friends.

Through the bare trees

I can see them returning

in paper-light hands

that aren’t afraid to rise

unnoticed.