before dark's quite stood up
to trade vigils with this day
their waters-edge race-spree's on,
more joy than competition.
so quietly and numberless they tread,
stepsounds muffled by punctuating waves.
they miss nothing, take in every birdish thing
(thinking ahead toward morsels day will bring?)
and should thinking be not their thing (it's sure they
have a form of it) the beastilets know just where they
love to be,
earliest, the safest time, and free.
so free, so grand for me to get to see.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
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