ANTE MERIDIEM

for Ivy

What I desire in the morning

is the music of guitar, its pottery-dull notes

knocking knees in the lower strings

and in the upper notes a skittering like

the black-capped chickadee that surfs the wind

rushing through our hedge,

planting its claws like fingers across

the little fretless board of a branch and

plucking spiders’ eggs for breakfast.

— Ted Gilley