the only thing my father taught me

spring comes grimacing
through slits of melting snow
we take careful steps
dogwood sings
its new fire confused
by our hiss and sizzle
ironwood trees
the only thing my father taught me
i teach you
strongest in the forest when alive
quickest to rot when dead
why waste time you say and follow at a safe distance

years from now in late fall
driving down back concessions
i'll see the crows
revise every fence row
i'll watch the vulture
that holiest of birds
waiting beside the patient ditch
faith will keep the road from straying off
and my face in the rear-view mirror
will be a page
its corner turned down
to save a place