I am my own

approval isn’t a prize; it’s capture

six a.m.

Grampas lake

shrouded in mist

cool damp

invisible

motionless kayak

no sight

no sound

silent milky perfection

imperceptible something

distant tap

quiet thwap

less quiet thwap thwap

quiet loud it comes

thwap, thwap, thwap, thwap, thwap

pushed from the mist

a single mallard

here

gone

Posted in solitude