Land Scape of Shadow Life

landscape of shadow life Eden marsh is still when the hawk gives way to the owl silent feathers sweep low over shining bog to dust away the last vestiges of twilight songs of other times, once warmed and borne on sibilant breezes, lie deeply entombed in mud the silver scaled seek depths tangled by remnants of root and reed cat tail stalks dried to palest brown crisply bent before prevailing winds fray the edges of ice clothed pools we, who bide here, weep snow tears while crossing through our lives like clouds stacked and rolling higher over Eden marsh in winter. we the disinherited our voices buried wait, words frozen glistening spittle on tongues hard as diamonds cut the ice glass clot freeing sounds of crack-shatter speech our peat soaked bodies bend before adversity to become wisps of paper wasp nests to flutter anonymously gray delicate yet barren our stories mere guesses in frigid places.