by Wm. Baldwin
Rebundling what has come undone,
marsh stems now locked by shadow’s bond,
and lost to setting, fire-quenched sun,
in a splashing run the coots respond.
Exhibit next: dike’s stunted pines
commemorate with a stir and sigh,
while crucial to the arts involved,
appearance of star sectioned sky.
Wild smiling Glory in all that.
Small owl swoops down
to snatch my hat.