It's 6 PM and unusually Cool
For this time of year
So I take a coffee break
Into my garden
To stare and view, the magnificence
Of the swamp
Or as they say now
"Wetlands" before sunset
The silence is unreal and deafening.

I can almost hear the colors
The greens are high
The Grayish are soft
The arid browns are like base
I can hear so clearly
The beat of my heart
As I greedily, intake the view.

A few eaglets stelthily
wade in the shallow waters
Barely moving, searching for prey
Looking like white statues
No sound, no breeze
Just a slight coolness, in the air.

A lone tree stands out
Like sore thumb
Laden with wild berries
Of red hues
The ones, the fowls
That don't eat live prey
Feed upon.

Sort of gives my panoramic view
A tinge of classy coloring
The sun must be setting fast
The shadows are growing
As if consuming The swamp.

Preparing it for the night
Where only the strong survives
I still am unable to listen
To any creatures, I am familiar with
Even the birds flying near by
Seem like the're
In a silent film.

It's amazing how fast
The sun is setting
The scratching of my plume
Upon paper
Is the only audible sound
So with that
I'll say Shhhhhhhhhh!
And welcome the night.


By: William Bonilla
10/28/05