The River in Winter

iceshelf18 February 2017


A piece of the river has just torn
free of the watery
silk of the whole,
and become
a soft grey gull
in flight over the bridge.


As though painted
on the reflection
of the white clapboard
house in the river,
sat the mallard.


Could it be the sky
was expressing confusion
over seeing itself grounded
in reflection in the river?
Or was I
only imagining it?

Philip Kuepper
(15 February 2017)

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