neptune's garden

the morning mist reveals the spiders' homes,
around every bend another
landscape of illuminated webs-
perfect drops of dew
strung along perfect lines,
like so many little pearls of light.
i smell the water
before any other sense
tells me it's there,
i take a deep breath, and sigh
that salty smell stirs
something in me
even here, at the
brackish back-end of the bay.
the grebes dive and resurface
again and again,
catching their morning meal
feeding their children,
the sound of their call out across
the water
is hauntingly wild
for such a paved little trail.

the bay stretches out and
blends in the mist, the
grey of the sky-
there is no horizon line
only light reflecting light
and I
turn to walk back into the bushes
the wet high grass,
my silly familiar friend
stops short and pounces,
bounces
back up along the trail-
i am thankful for this ridiculous
companion of mine,
who makes my laughter ring
like a pealing of bells
in the stillness of the
morning air.
he jumps for no other reason
but joy
and plays slip n'slide games
down the gently sloping inclines,
making me shake my head,
and smile.