The closer this sun gets
to the horizon line, the faster
the lake flows east
toward the gulf.
Maybe it’s a trick
of light or perspective,
or the pull of night
with all its stillness
and heavy want. Trees
bend to breeze, and bug hum
swells in this place. Whistling ducks
stand on top of pilings
all along the banks, stretch
their wings against the wind,
and sway in rhythm with the lake’s
flow, this day-end fade
from pink to purple, then
nothing at all.
–
Jack B. Bedell is a professor of English at Southeastern Louisiana University. His latest collection is Ghost Forest (Mercer University Press, 2024). He served as Louisiana Poet Laureate, 2017-2019.