Mud and melting snow create questions that form
the way what melts becomes ice again.

For example: Do the sparrows at the feeder
feel happy? They look happy. I feel happy 
seeing their eager flutterings     around the mesh 
knowing the seedcoats will scatter down 
knowing some seeds will escape and eventually 
sprout between cracks.

Between cracks of memory so much lingers. The present floats 
on top with its daily repetitions. Beneath it the dreams. 
For example: I am stroking the soft hair under my dog’s chin
my brain’s thalamus sends pleasure     to my fingertips
although she is recently gone (we chose this) 
resting at peace in the garden. 

In the dream her sigh of contentment     coats the present discomfort 
from the tooth my dear dentist will soon claim. 
It will go the way     of what is beyond saving  
although tooth enamel is the hardest     part of the body. 

For example: Other questions:
Will this tooth remain whole past the time of my body?
How long will our dog’s teeth stay in the garden?
Will I be redeemed?
How much pleasure does a dream provide?
This is not a question.