Hometown Fishing Spot

The concrete bridge sits above a narrow water, murky
Yet able to reflect the reeds,
Crushed aluminum, and
Tangled ropes.

Soft-feathered birds leave the comfort of the shade,

Their leaving is a shaft of light’s reflection,
On concave mirrors. Fragments of the sky
Bent and absorbed
Into the arch of the day.

The sun plays victim to shade,
And dulls to a cold grey.

Between the water and the bridge
A paradox of shadows.
Birds move their slight
Bodies into that space,
And although it is dusk,

The sun reflecting nothing
Like a song sounding its final chorus.