kingfisher

we found ourselves at an old creek
weary willows draped the banks
hornbeam and alder, white birch, poplar
cooled our path between pond skaters

we paddled beside budding balls of yellow lilies
their dank soggy pads, launch points for kinked blue sticks
of damsel flies riding tandem cross the dyke
flittering by in their clumsy aerial waltz

dragonflies of deep red, of brown, of green
flew erratic zig-zags
fizzing wings holding their bulbous heads in position to check us out
just beyond an arm's reach

a froglet skipping across the languid discs
leaves a trail of watery crowns that collapse
to become colliding silver rings

reeds and rushes whispering chorus
to chattering reed warblers
and looping chiff-chaff chiff-chaff

minnows twist all which ways when startled by our paddling
then resume their gentle submarine gasps
tails twitching occasionally
fins moving through slow rotations
against the swirls and eddies
we stirred up wending our way
through the summery soup

no sign of the river bed
so thick the aquatic foliage
heavy leathery leaves shading
silhouettes of fish and clouds of fry

a snail with a twisted conical shell
drifts foot up to the meniscus
of this slow running sheet of viridian
that reflects cumuli
threatening thunderous relief from the humidity

ahead, a splash, splosh, disturbance of still
an arrow of blue
shot at forty-five degrees straight
pierces the loosely hung curtain
straggling delineation of land from water

~

CLP 25/06/2023