I carried the case without the camera
no pictures of the best of the day
when the breeze flowed over the water
and hyacinths winked in the light
a snake hung from an old cypress,
and gazed at its own reflection,
the voice of one ferryman,
as true to his setting as
the young fat gators
glistening on the log,
guided our eyes to the
papery hive of bees,
to the yellow-crowned night herons
tucked in their nests.
The boat's motor fluttered and choked
and was brought back to life more than once
as clouds of dragonflies lifted and rocked,
as rain shed its grace upon our heads,
and the friend who drove seven hours to find me
found heaven chanting a reply.