Anon.

Rzicznek, F. Daniel

 ANON
    Raw duck stained to my fingertips--
   earthy, exact pang: blood, salt, smoke--
   Where I stalked across the marsh
      the grasses swept back behind me.
   Tall alders and beauty: an open orbit
   interlaced with crickets, cattail silk--
   Where I drank from a bottle, the spilled
      water pearled into the murk.
   The eyeglass of an afternoon sun's mirror,
   a late tadpole thrashes through its golds--
   Where I waded to the levee, where I crouched,
      the blackbirds made a center of me.
   The horizon fit with storms, rain
   a mile away and yet the ears sharpen--
   Where I faded into reeds, deep-shadowed
      against the freshwater island's brush:
   shawl of moss across a freshly cut stump
   (pair of mallards swinging from a nail)
   --autumn in knowing autumn--