So ends the old year

When the water recedes we see
the sludge at the bottom: a crust
of gray matter and castoff wrappers,
a yellow plastic gallon container,
the skin from downed tree limbs
unravelling. When the tide rises
the surface looks clearer.
None of this is of any real
consequence to the small fleet
of white wading birds picking
through the shallows there.


In response to Via Negativa: Fast away.

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