Thursday, August 25, 2011
"Twilight," by Jim Yaussy Albright
The lake rises and falls in long cool breaths.
An eagle skims the last glow of sunset,
folds itself into shadowy pines.
Loons call down the darkness.
A flurry of bats flits out the last light.
Ducks rush overhead with a sound like tearing velvet.
Stars pour down, and
trout pluck them from the surface
one by one.
From Celebration of Trout.