Bird Flight Hour Over Roaringwater Bay

Foils of shifting windborne tapestry

spread links and trails in the sky

stretch drifting stratus and cirrus

phantom forms of expiring day

Dusk enfolds forest and lake

with dim chinchilla blur

treetops stand blackpoint still

silhouettes of a profound brocade

frail birch and sharp-quilled fir

sapped of all stirring

night is tightening its hold

But here come the geese

and there cross the swans

trumped only by a flying v of cranes

urgent noise rings and echoes

until finally freezing and insentient

last light dies

paralysis of chill

sealed up in sleep 

under inked skies

stasis fulfilled