Prologue to a marsh

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A wonderful word to the seasonal exchange ๐Ÿ™โค

Lance Sheridan

Autumn winding down now
As nature speeds winterโ€™s snow
In the solstice frigid sun,
In a marshโ€™s tidal lagoon
By a riverโ€™s bend
Tangled with sawgrass and reeds,
Mire, fowl, fin, and feathered quill
At a basinโ€™s dancing current,
By salty sediment, starfish sands
With their fishwife cross
Terns, pipers, cockles and snails,
The sky up there, crow black, rain
Tackled with clouds who kneel
To the sunset nets,
Heron nearly in flight,
Mummichogs, silversides, and shells
That speak brackish seas,
Eternal deepened waters away
From the urban sprawl
Whose neon towers will catch
In the lighted night
Like stalks of cattails, strumpshaw grass,
A poor wind sings
To you suburbs, though a melodious
Yearning, a faithful act,
The screech of owls in
Disappearing wood,
Splayed sounds
Out of tree-thumbed leaves
That fly and fall,
Crumble into earthen soil.
The rumpus of snowflakes
Trumpet the marsh,
A bellowing white ark

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