This is a canvas of my back yard. I love the smell, senses and pure beauty of the south's wetlands.
~Susan~

In the mystic haze of morning
With the call of a passing Loon
Just when the night is over
When the outline of the moon
Is blending into daylight
Still haunting all the same
It comes as the tide rises to full
Pure nature...
Raw...
Untamed.
The shrimp hopping in silver
Threads of phosphorous light
Spot Bass as they roll
Dining on these
Bullets of flashing light
Tails clicking a whisper
A swish...
A plop...
A splash
Just ahead of danger
As the shrimp make a final dash
Then in the reeds stealthily
Looming just beyond sight
The king of the marsh birds stalks his prey
Waiting for his first bite
His eyes chase shadows in shallows
Then just when the timing's right
His neck is a lighning fast trigger
When the morning captures the night
Breakfast for creatures of nature
Foodchain that balances out
The call of hungry stomachs
As marsh mornings wake up and shout!