Monday, March 13
MARSH
You won't be around to see it
disappear, into the estuary and tidal
flow, breakwater broken, before
the future's final pier. For now
now is enough, skulking among
the refuse, where cattails rollick yet
with wren song and mud claims
your long ago and ever after.
In the margins of this meanwhile
wander side-by-side with the seagull,
who makes a home out of place
and knows a way to crack a shell,
rising, hovering, falling over
this refuge---wasteland, wetland.
Keep looking until you forget
what it was that brought you here.
(Hai-Dang Phan)