Poetry

Midsummer Marsh

By Bob Bender

 

 

Soft you now

First light be slow breaking

Over the cross sound Cat Island pines

Onto the face of the new moon tide

Spartina blades in silhouette

 

Feel the calm

Still air on a moss hung morn

Puff of down feather slowly on the drift

Perchance from nestlings cradled near

Large eyed and quiet waiting

 

Now the sun

Steady on bodes hours sultry

Raising a shimmer over the mud banks

Gators and cooters lie by lids closed

As beads form on the brow

 

Comes the breeze

Sending marsh grass rolling

Steady onshore winds up river flowing

Bringing movement to tree shadows

A cool caress most welcome

 

Hide and seek

In intricate chains connects all

As myriad beings play out life’s game

Plying innate and mysterious skills

So to eat and not be eaten

 

Low the rumble

Late afternoon comes knocking

With all too familiar cloud banks rising

An easing wind and growing hush

The scent of rain wafts nigh

 

Across the bay

Now sweeps a curtain heavy

With the flash and roar of angry gods

Crashing down all ‘round in fury

Spending itself weak with loss

 

All is quiet

Save the cadenced pat of droplets

In consort with the coming darkness

Harbingers of the tree frog choir

Moon through parting clouds