There is more algae on the lake
than last spring, the groundslacking care. A crane
wades in shallow water. He becomes
a straight edge for drawing
that line between sun and shade.
speck on leaf or skin,
the hairline rust
on our Hibachi grill.
Under the pines, the wind blows
sweeping flimsy things backinto the shadows.
We hold hands and leave certain words
out of the scene. Like the talc-white birdwe want to mark a boundary
without crossing over.
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