by Pavel Chichikov
Rain walks across the lake:
One, two, three steps it's over –
Long legs and dimpled soles
The low converging plough-marks of the waterbirds
Their v-like wakes
That join but never join their breasts
Go on until they dive and disappear
From sight
And then when they emerge the v appears
White bills dipped in milk, their satin breasts
Embroidered folded wings
And viol necks and heads
I am not worthy to behold,
Much less the Lord
Pure in grief and presence in His tabernacle
He who dived in death and disappeared
And left a wake
Of prodigies and miracles
Visit Pavel's website at Grey Owl Press.
