Today’s armada of eight or nine ducks
sways back & forth on the trembling glass lake.
Pale pink suffusion, pale yellow leaks
inlay clouds — angel, white skimmers, kayak.
Three ducks land, silhouettes on silvery back
drop mingle, six wings rise from the lake.
Their meld is liminal — turning away, wanting to mix —
muted rasp of males, sussurating lake.
A female quacks — nudged, goosed — night black
water brimming with life, smack of fish on lake.
Spot-tailed bass, minnows streaking from docks
white bellies skip like stones across the lake.
Great blue heron launches, glides, squawks —
its mate follows, climbs, levels, circles the lake.
Sun reddens the rim of towering clouds, breaks
above trees, summons kingfisher to the lake.
Orange collar, ragged crest, her chirr tricks
me to hear cicada, no, kingfisher — my lake.
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