By: phoenixfiress
A breeze tilts.
I watch the blue ridge
separate cellophane water
from crystal sky.
Two trees on a bank stand sharp
and alone among a hundred.
Two birds drift apart
on quietly dipping waters.
One turns under the surface
to claim a meal, and I take its
icy spot for a time.
The bird crests with a chilled
fish in its gullet.
I break the surface
with ink still on my hand.
Blue Ridge
-
phoenixfiress