Summer Nights Near the Pond
Lyn Lifshin
not targeting corn
or churning ripples.
Not a sound. The
birds float as if
stunned or amazed
as the current takes
them into the cove
pink lipstick light
starts to fade in.
Sleeping, floating.
White clouds of
doves. Owls.
Faces in dreams.
Ghosts you
could walk thru
