The day closed in with mist and rain
And hills dissolved as shadow clouds.
The limits of the air and land
Were waters flowing, merged and blurred.
The river rolled its mirror heart,
And trout were birds and birds were trout.
As peat-smoke was the mid-day sky:
It sank through depths of weed and pike.
A dead tree, shattered by a storm,
Now spiked its bark into the fog.
As fungus drenched its core in spores
And from its tips the tree dripped life.
The air was heavy, forests light,
The river floated, day was night.