In the rain the sturgeon wake,
and loll on their cushions of silt,
whispering about the nervous
flutters of oncoming winter.
Fog-stilled boats drift amid
reflected hillsides, outcrops
dotted with upside-down sheep
and leaf-brown streams boring
into their emerald faces like
unchecked tears. There, we,
revolving, hearts stilled with
wonder, listen to the slowing song
of two crickets on opposing shores.
(c) 2017, by Hannah Six
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