Suspension

The shallow draught
of a flat bottomed
open skiff drifts alone,
moving with its shadow
cross hatched
onto the vitreous water;
vying with the spirits that pour
across the bay.
As moonlight dresses them
they are reanimated –
proclaiming –
they would provoke our eyes
and enliven our dreams.
From square behind to pointed bow
the small vessel becomes full
with the company of twilight and
of water flecked salty winds
that cause the well turned
knotted oars to creak –
bangled cuffs take the strain
of their lifeless posturing
as they languish half hidden
in the hyaline polish of the water –
a jailer to its hostages:
strong subaqueous
roots anchored securely,
the shaded petiole
that bend too easily with the shining
movement –
plant’s shafts straddle the muted
cries of a multitude of birds
percolating through and the insects
dancing with the yellow
veils of lamplight
fastened to posted arms.
Bawling from the tirade
of flocking travellers,
setting sights on home
permeates the eerie echoes
they create – agitated wings
cause a draught to wrestle
with the duckweed
also festooning the flower
ornamented pathways
of this spectre’s lawn.
The small vessel steers unaided
towards the Cattails and reeds
growing along the shoreline’s
covered stones; back to back,
beautiful in their lacustrine
tranquillity – moss
like chartreuse
pouring over
each of them -nature’s embankment
an overcrowded edge soaks it up
and the cloying,
sprawling mist
until
the small boat passes
and comes serenely to a stop
at the figure
arising from the lake.
Faint sounds from startled peachicks
escaping, amid shifts of hazel,
make way.
Vaporous air wraps her feet;
tiny water droplets suspended
make the ceiling to her underwater home –
greater reasons beckoned her awake
from the sands and sediments
of her grief –
awake from the night’s silence
and to set sail.
Moonlight and all else vacates
the small space – she takes
their place
and steers gently through
the ghosted night.