The Marsh

The morning sky in purples, pinks, and blues

Arrests my soul and holds it captive here

Above the marsh as daybreak’s shocking hues

Announce the day. The sights and sounds so clear

And clean, Beneath my feet, in sulfurous muck,

Where slack tide gives the ever-clacking rail,

Where creatures scurry, where a lonesome duck

Glides in and out, foraging. Where a pale

Young gull learns the lessons the marsh has taught

Generations of its kind. Swallows dart

In and out, up and down, until they’ve caught

Their fill, then by my side one preens. It’s art

Alive in front of me. Another day

On the salt marsh breaks. It is nature’s way.

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