what that rejection might mean, returning geese, seeking out understanding in fallow fields, avoidable blindness, we can no longer see what we explain, we no longer explain what we can see. trying to relate ideas of fragmentation, seeds scattered in the wind, pollen, the almond blossoms in spring, the deadwood burnt in fall, you recognize the absence, wonder why the fields are hollow. in the summer the river and its tributaries are lazy in their winding through the valley flatland, the shallows with their hidden logs, the trailing vines, beaches of large flat rocks. in the winter rains the river runs high and the levees break, we speak of flooding and sandbagging, of rooftop rescues and water diverted into the rice fields, do not cross if water is above the red line, attempts to contain her are not always successful.