beneath a sky so full
that stars could spill,
the bird wades in the midnight pond.
Shrouded in shadows
from beak to quill,
oblivious
to life beyond.
it lorded over
the reflected moon,
like a hunter,
intensely listening
to the movements
swishing and swirling,
as if by a spoon,
beneath the surface
inside the womb
of the dark,
whispering waters.