giant fish hurl themselves
out of the water — dawn airing
a bluejay chides, pink rises
last evening’s sky streaming
pink scarves, all heaven
streaked & mottled, early today
scatter of stars, less of a moon
no breeze, now, lightest play
30-40 ducks in ground’s flock
kitten tooth marks in my book
rattle of ducks a serenade
two dozen flutter up from shore
to settle like heels of bread
handfuls flung at the water
Containment
by A. E. Stallings
So long I have been carrying myself
Carefully, carefully, like a small child
With too much water in a real glass
Clasped in two hands, across a space as vast
As living rooms, while gazes watch the waves
That start to rile the little inland sea
And slap against its cliffs' transparency,
Revise and meet, double their amplitude,
Harmonizing doubt from many ifs.
Distant frowns like clouds begin to brood.
Soon there is overbrimming. Soon the child
Looks up to find a face to match the scolding,
And just as he does, the vessel he was holding
Is almost set down safely on the bookshelf.
by A. E. Stallings
So long I have been carrying myself
Carefully, carefully, like a small child
With too much water in a real glass
Clasped in two hands, across a space as vast
As living rooms, while gazes watch the waves
That start to rile the little inland sea
And slap against its cliffs' transparency,
Revise and meet, double their amplitude,
Harmonizing doubt from many ifs.
Distant frowns like clouds begin to brood.
Soon there is overbrimming. Soon the child
Looks up to find a face to match the scolding,
And just as he does, the vessel he was holding
Is almost set down safely on the bookshelf.
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