Low Steps Into Sunrise

A bottom land where green is thread through with a trailing mud. A late fruited decay seeps and smears these low meadow pasture. Pot-bellied dewdrops hang, strung upon spawny strings. Here toadstools labor to open upon cadaverous stems. Tractor ruts have churned a common lea into sully and mire. Waders squelch, stirring drenched odors. A slick grass slopes here into oily shallows. Beyond, the Ohio river shimmers bright as it swiftly flows onward delivering journeys taken between moon and sun. If you stand here splay-footed and boot rooted, you may catch a Great Blue Heron, ascending, its wings catching fire within first shafts of golden light. An illumination of a destination reached by this marshy dock of backwater day-peep.