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.
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