A fisherman’s taking his boat deep across the lake.
My old eyes trace his path all the way, his precise
wavering, in and out of view. Then it gets strange:
suddenly he’s a lone goose balancing on a bent reed.

A fisherman’s taking his boat deep across the lake.
My old eyes trace his path all the way, his precise
wavering, in and out of view. Then it gets strange:
suddenly he’s a lone goose balancing on a bent reed.