Over Night on the River
At first
along the shoreline
another retired tire
another lost sole,
and this wet conduit flows
with the smallest fish
swimming through–
one little heart at a time
among billions–
some turn as I approach
some leap clear.
…
And now
in the distance
a broken line of white,
like bubbles floating upstream:
a slow procession
of white pelicans
in single file
along Point-No-Point.
All sound is suddenly far away
while the sun pulls down the sky
and everything with it
except a big fish
that jumps.
…
And now
the philharmonic trill of legs
rubbing in the dark
while a coyote makes tracks
along the nervous sand
where the moon always finds us
less than full.
…
At dawn one pelican moves
along the distant pointless shore
but around the bend
about to come into view
more pelicans!
