A yel­low kayak hov­ers on the grey driz­zled river,
Beneath a swirling bliz­zard, flakes the size of swal­lows,
Gliding slickly meet­ing elements.

Black pad­dles dip, bal­anc­ing back, forth, east and west,
As a man in wet­suit tra­verses
Long shelves of sub­merged geo-time paper-clipped with rocks.

A great blue heron opens one giant flap of wings,
Embracing low sky,
Then dips toward shaggy edges where debris

Hinges in every jag and scis­sor tooth of land,
Blocking easy attempts at flow.
The white sheet edges higher on the body of the world

As I wait for Mother to stay or go
To surgery, and nurses, aids, and doc­tors can­not help
But search through win­dows check­ing dan­ger­ous roads home.