Hollow Bay Fog
Eagle trees appear at dawn
as shadows crack the porcelain fog
between the winter lakes.
Majesty is fragile
as the sliver moon remains a whisper
to guide in the morning sky.
I waded through the stake beds
in the hollow bay
while sunrise rippled the blue layers
of endless air and water.
Coyotes sing on another shore
in a distant bliss
leaving their sound like a wild mask
I wear for my renaming.
And then the merciful quiet
after the wailing for all we are,
this place of loving is restless,
I salve my feet with pine.
John Swain lives in Louisville, Kentucky, USA. Red Paint Hill published his first collection, Ring the Sycamore Sky.