Friday, August 12, 2011

on the water at dusk

I took to the river last night.

A blue heron met me there. Also, two boats of quiet fishermen who understood that I didn't want to break the river-silence by greeting them across the water. Not last night, no.

One drowsy fishing-line after another gracefully launched into the air, spanning the chasm between sky & surface before landing light as a ballerina.

A ream of crickets primed the air with their low music, and over the marshland a combine chewed late-summer's hay in a distant field.

A mink emerged from the weedy bank and whistled into his burrow as sleek as water poured into a cup. He left one winking leaf bobbing in his wake.

I wish you were with me out on the water tonight, because you would been quiet; you would have understood.


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