July 10, 2008

Water Window

on hot still days in bright July,
I haunt these quiet flowing rivers,
their heron spiced shallows

deep shady pools like liquid glass,
darkened windows where trout
suspend and finning slowly dream

dawn, deer and wild turkeys drinking
pause, peering down and through,
and water serpents drowse at noon

sundown light and little frogs singing,
then the moon comes up like a
porcelain bowl adrift in a starry sea