Hyden in this poem is Daniel's young son. I look out on the Miwok Ridge from my home.
Christmas Eve, Miwok Ridge
Birdseed, shredded cabbage, baby carrots:
a small cache is stowed
under a bush, beside a rock, some hidden
protected place for mouse, rabbit, or the robin
we saw perch on a bare branch
at the head of the trail. Tiring,
finally, of too much precision, Hyden
plunges his hand
deep into the feed sack, and sows
seed in the wind
sweeping it wide
across the open ridge.
- Daniel Polikoff