It’s that time of year again.
—∞—
Each morningEarly
As though awakening
The lake
Comes alive An opening movement
Two ducks
In formation
Quietly chatting
Whisk by just above the water A single gull appears
Overhead
Looking, searching
Its wings
Pink with the rising sun Far off
A loon begins its day
Black-green head
Sharp, wet bill
Glistening On the bunkhouse wall
A dance
Rose-gold reflection
Sun grazing the water
Finding its way into the room A noiseless waltz
Sometimes partnered
Leaf shadows
Gentle
In a morning breeze
© 2014 Thomas W. Cummins
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