photo credit: Tim Walker
* * *
Young concert goers side by side
took in the symphony in equal parts,
both knew to hold applause until
all movements marked their time,
and you affirmed how right it felt,
sitting thus, together. And thus
we often sat in later years
on this eucalyptus-shaded bench
overlooking Devereux Slough.
Here I could always sense the down-
beat that set the natural world
astir, but you became the better
naturalist, were more alert
to field marks, to telltale plover
vigilance that spoke of chicks
nearby, too small to see unless
they moved, so cryptic even glassed
their being gathered doubt.
Across broad flats of mud, rilled
by seeps of brackish ooze, the flat glare
of late-day sun spread tranquil ease,
and shorebirds settled in domestic
grooves, and this was your other office,
where I was pleased to bide and eye
the view through your scope from time to time,
and time was secure in your keeping and stood
still
fffffffffffffffffffor me.
* * *
