We awake again surprised, full of wonder
with the first and second barefoot step,
not quite ready for reality to ambush us
with awe. Changing water on the pasture,
an egret lifted above me from a pond
of cattails and coots, redwings and bullfrogs—
flapped and circled to stand off in the dry grass
until I passed through this little heaven,
this inefficient accumulation of water,
to return when I was gone. There is no reason
to fear here, each of us tending to our business,
staying out of one another’s way in a dance
I haven’t learned in town. A man must
get out early in the summer, make necessary
circles that he can’t pay anyone else to do.
drycrikjournal 