From the Pied-billed Grebe

Photo by Cynthia Griffin

When the misty morning mutes the autumn colors

When the sun filters weakly through the trees

When morning dew is dripping from the foliage

When the grasses bow to greet the passing breeze

You will find me in the long forgotten places

You will find me swimming past the cypress trees

You will find me in the marshy bogs and bottoms

You will find me where you find the pied-billed grebes

I paddle on the waves and in waters dark and calm

I flash a black-striped bill and small white tail

I dive head first or sink if I’ve a mind to

I leave no trace behind of watery trail

If you’re quiet you may see me on the water

If you’re stealthy, catch a glimpse before I dive down-deep below

If you’re lucky for a moment you will catch your breath in wonder

If you’re lucky you will see me ‘fore I go.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.