"Liquid Darkness"

"Liquid Darkness"

Greg Budig 2020

The darkness has 

become liquid.

It smells of wetness.

Deep, fragrant and 

pungent decay. 

All along the shoreline 

the inky water gently 

caresses the sand.

Creaking footsteps 

along the warped 

and faded dock.

Walking lightly on

ancient boards, so many 

summers have passed. 

Reaching the end,

gazing up at the stars.

Peeping frogs in the 

reedy shadows.

Long necked grebes 

creaking calls across 

the flatness of water. 

High above the nighthawk

calls and booms on 

diving sharp wings.

The air seems to 

rise from the water.

Cool and rich with 

aquatic perfumes.

Lilly pads, tadpoles,

sunfish and worms.

The sweetness of the 

earth, the sand, the water.

Arching your neck to gaze 

upon the endless night.

The milky way stretches

beyond your view.

To stare into the heavens 

with the soul of a child.

Look between the stars, 

and you'll see forever. 

Alone in the liquid 

darkness. Sitting at 

the end of the old dock.

The celestial world is above 

you, the aquatic world below.

Breathing the solitude.

The loon remembers to

call out your name. 

"The End"