March 19

Fifty five and sunny mid-afternoon

Two at a time,

as if on cue,

the floating geese

would look left then right,

dive their black bills

down just below the surface, 

tipping their bodies up toward

the cool blue sky

as if shaking
crumpled white paper at the sun.

All the while, along the edges

of the marsh grass

two otters slid 

across the surface,

their glistening heads 

perfectly still,
drawing arrows
across the blue page
like ink pens.