Punctuated by Joan Kantor

Punctuated

Mornings elude me.
I don’t come alive till noon,
but today,
rising at 6AM,
I headed to the marsh for a glimpse
of dawn’s most colorful creatures feeding
against a background of burgeoning light.

In the pink tinged mist,
birds had gathered by the hundreds,

a white pelican
separated from its flock,
pairs of cackling sand hill cranes,
lithe ibis, egrets, herons,
black neck stilts robotically walking,
then gracefully taking flight,
skimmers swooping down
to swiftly glide above the surface,
their open beaks scooping water
and leaving liquid trails behind.

The view was a visual hum,
a statement of beauty
and peaceful coexistence
so close to home,

and the coral-winged Roseate Spoonbills
I’d come to see
turned out to be
the exclamation points.

by Joan Kantor

Editor’s Note: Sometimes the sweetest imagery is that which is most needed in difficult times.