Varnishing Days

         i.
Charcoal stands of hemlock mark a border
around rain-flooded fields; their arching lines -
tangled nubs, maroon-tipped - end in umber
furrows mirroring a pewter sky.

An unfinished scene: no house, no road,
no huddled figures backgrounded by frost.
A swollen river runs into this wood,
exits silently and out of sight.

Chevrons of black mallards angle down
the freshening breeze; conspirators, they stand in
for any human hint. Above the bine,

they veer up, disappear. Orange, snared by thin
clouds, freezes hard, shellacked and set again
in a lucid fixative that gives it shine.

         ii.
In the foreground, oily refuse floats away
...