Bird Flight Hour Over Roaringwater Bay
Foils of shifting windborne tapestry
spread links and trails in the sky
stretch drifting stratus and cirrus
phantom forms of expiring day
Dusk enfolds forest and lake
with dim chinchilla blur
treetops stand blackpoint still
silhouettes of a profound brocade
frail birch and sharp-quilled fir
sapped of all stirring
night is tightening its hold
But here come the geese
and there cross the swans
trumped only by a flying v of cranes
urgent noise rings and echoes
until finally freezing and insentient
last light dies
paralysis of chill
sealed up in sleep
under inked skies
stasis fulfilled