in a pandemic year
two rabbits chase each other’s shadows
in moonlit snow under the black branches
of the yew I’ve lived with for fifty years.
In the Arboretum prairie, the Jackson Oak
I first saw in full leaf has decayed to a single trunk
and branch–hawk perch, owl stand, but all around
its offspring raise their young green arms.
Robin Chapman’s most recent book is The Only Home We Know (Tebot Bach), recipient of an Outstanding Achievement in Poetry Award from the Wisconsin Library Association and honors from the Council for Wisconsin Writing. Her poems have appeared recently in Poem-a-Day, The Hudson Review and Appalachia. She is recipient of the Helen Howe Poetry Award.