Dawn Skies:

by Cara

The dawn holds for the 
roots of clouds to hollow the night
their eyes moonblind
and on the sheen of a lake
the moment before wind,
before rain, a motion floats asleep.

My eyes watch (as smoothly blurred as watching through water)
-this dawn rippling among marshgrass and stone
It's form deepening
into winter,
a bear at her burrow at first light
on the first light snow...
awoken to a turbulent rage
by a stranded salmon
on sand
it's mouth opening and closing
toward the river.

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