Marsh Beds

Birds in branches

for the night

do not mock

long legged cranes.

Gravity pulls us all

to our own beds

for respite from

day’s winged work.

Trees of leaf

do not hug marshes

but leave them to the sky,

to wane and swell,

like black wet mirrors,

waters soaked with beds of

grasses, shallow, where

tall cranes stand, and sleep.

Marilyn Peretti