Warm into shade
Does it, too, see
The uncultivated corner
Warm in dappled reflection of breeze,
face to day-cool whispers
that blow in
off pond, rustling
shadows of trees
at eighty-two degrees,
the familiar coo-hoo of
some nameless morning
bird fretting feathers in some far-off
tree stirs an impulse like down.
mate-hunt dances of fishes and water spiders
undulating still surfaces?
where sedge sprouts dark
and sweet, burgeoning shadows,
covert flourishing into thicket?
face to the trees,
calling time to day,
liquid in cool lucid
sunshine, three feet from dusk,
dark realms of summer
(constant at eighty-two degrees)
cultivating continuance
in tempo.
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© 1995 Jael Bietsch
This site created and maintained by Off the Page Graphics.
March 8, 2000