- Rooster A deliberate life in these eastern woods: acres of footfall and frost. 1:40
- Hail on the Train The girl, small in my arms, and eyes wide at the violence of ice. We hurtle together toward home. 1:41
- Dawn Chorus of Crows The waking hour. Silver light through the trees and a high moan of boxcars dopplering. The house asleep. The baby breathing. Fear at my throat. Or at least loss, for tempus fugit: that old chestnut. Perhaps we could Peter Pan, forever moving west. Or maybe, as the poet said, west is Everywhere. A verb: we west ourselves; I west you. Look around: a rattle of voices and coffee cups. A sloping hill and a room full of sun. A map. Your comfortable shoes. Even the dish declares: This pattern will not fade. Remain, and out the oracle’s eyes. We are an island: reprise. 0:53