John Stanizzi


7.37 a.m.

62 degrees


Paradisal morning, early spring tropical, the

outspread surface of the pond, dark, shifts, the air

notable for its substance, the birdsong constant in the 

damp morning, and yesterday’s scores of tadpoles vanished.



7.16 a.m.

65 degrees


Portraits – goldfinch in the bramble, rain on the pond,

orbits of skippers and spiders walking on water,

necessity of meditations this Holy Saturday, this rain-

dampened morning blessed, cleansed by the softest steady rain.



11.51 a.m.

59 degrees


Pleasures of greens – fields, new leaves, pastures of skunk cabbage,

occurrences of repeated splashes and ripples just after the frogs have leapt;

nicknames for plants – bittersweet, virgin’s bower, pussy-toes, harebell, and 

diving wobblers, the polliwogs, are back today, flashing and flaring at the shoreline.





11.40 a.m.

65 degrees


Prelude to all night rain, the day grays, the showers begin.

Object of greening, reed-grass has begun its emergence.  I will

name this grass, and the surface of the pond that throws itself north – I will

declare it motion, color, warmth, growth, occurrence, patience.




7.52 a.m.

54 degrees


Praising the spring, the rains, the heavy clouds, the chipping sparrow,

orator of the morning, sings and sings.  The ground is covered with the

nightshift workers’ mounds, industry of night crawlers and ants, and the bittercress,

diminutive beauty, turned its lights on overnight, and left them on.