Dawn Pond

Brackish lichen forms a raft upon the pond, a low haze floats like a moored airship. Small frogs chirrup sotto-voce as if they were dreaming sparrows. Water birds dabble in their sleep. Soon the sun will dash across a drop of dew bursting dams of light. A fisherman in his truck drinks his coffee, rubs his eyes and smacks his lips. He grabs rod and tackle, hopes fat fish are lazily rising. Feathers shake off waterlogged shadows, wings slap the groggy face of the pond, ripples splash up to rinse the air. Coots and Plover call until the water awakes.