PERCEPTION

Owls’ calls have abandoned me
Delicate sounds before first light
Betray only the restlessness of small birds
In this lull before the water
Claims its color from the emerging horizon
Each wing beat of the descending teal
Reaches me whole and discrete
Solid in the dark as the ground under me
The landing splashes fix newcomers
In my memory of the lake shore
The feeding call of mallards draws
Their dark outlines on my believing eyes
Lit only by the promise of winter sunrise

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