Animals

Beavers

By DOROTHY HARTZ

The moonlight shatters on black water where <

the beavers cluster close to build their dream.

Fat paddles steer the broken light down stairs

of broken branches across the broken stream.

Tonight, they hoard in dark dens. Light! Come snow,

they’ll gnaw it, glazing twig cribs with red ice.

Nourished. Healed. They’ll quicken. Birth. Come slow

spring, dream dissolved, kits float free, light as mice.

Inside, we’ve stacked the logs and oiled our hide <

against the coming cold. We’ll miss them, dammed <

and deep asleep. Inside our prism, we’ll bide

the time in heat from every beam. Log jammed,

long-toothed and bottom heavy, out of sight,

we, too, bear life on shards of broken light.

This week’s Celebrations poet:

Dorothy Hartz is a writer and retired teacher of English currently living in Fremont Center, NY. Her poems and articles have appeared in local publications since 1997 when she returned to the Upper Delaware River Valley after 30 years away. She is a member of the Upper Delaware Writers Collective and has been a grant facilitator for Delaware Valley Arts Alliance.