WALKING THROUGH SWAMPLAND
WALKING THROUGH SWAMPLAND
by John Grey
Late afternoon,
sun sinks into marsh,
osprey links up with her nest,
cormorant perches on
a mangrove branch, wings
spread wide, drying out for
last time this day,
a copperhead slithers
into thick reeds,
provides shudder
to my casual immersion
in steamy sub-tropical near-stillness;
I walk an elevated wooden trail,
the only solid footing
in a land of shifting unsteady surfaces;
a gator glides beneath me –
more back-chat from delinquent nerve-ends;
the peace, it seems, has a role
even for these, my phobias;
it will be dark soon,
warm and elusive,
calm but predatory,
a natural bulwark
trumped by mixed feelings.
A finely drawn naturalistic psychic engagement with a stylistic developmental harmony.