In the silence behind my lashes
 I wait with eggs washed from their nest.
 
 Where stilt legs stand in the reeds,
 Heatless silver parts for the beak
 And another wriggle slides into pink warmth.
 
 The pond enclosed in the drop
 That falls from the upsprung mouth
 Leaps home, traveling circles outward to the shore.
 
 I step again:
    	Away from the drowned eggs;
    	Crossing the changing shoreline;
    	Homeward through a careless plane.