Fence-lines

The grey fence
leans sleepishly against the morning fog
that lay dew upon the field
which will turn into pixie dust
as the plain rolls into the suns warm gaze.

Before the birds
muster a lilt to try;
the sound of swimming
between tidal flows of atmosphere
immersed, they listen to the mist.

A dappled doe blinks its black eyes
rapidly twitching its ears
seeking the source of the crunch
by the hare munching greens for breakfast,
whose nose twitches up
at the white whir of a hurried wind

chalking up the slate of new day.
A heavy scream shatters the stillness
as the birds scatter in spider cracks
folded inside, the echo
doesn't bother coming back.

What was here
always moving on.



Photograph by © Dietmar Rabich, rabich.de [CC BY-SA 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0), CC BY-SA 3.0 de (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/de/deed.en) or CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons.