Poetry by Jael
Day in Tempo
by jael bietsch

Warm into shade
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.

Does it, too, see
mate-hunt dances of fishes and water spiders
undulating still surfaces?

The uncultivated corner
where sedge sprouts dark
and sweet, burgeoning shadows,
covert flourishing into thicket?

Warm in dappled reflection of breeze,
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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    March 8, 2000