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Second Place Poetry
Darkness melts,
then seeps out of the blue-gray sky,
while warm beams of light
pour like a heavy rain,
a bright waterfall running
down the leaf-green hills
filling the river basin.
And I’m standing here
on the fourth floor of this fortress
watching the big-mouth bass
dance head over tail
on the dark green waters.
Bobwhite puffs his feathers
by the black walnut,
then calls to the females
across the gully.
Look! The honeybees
are drinking nectar
from the tiny flowers
among the clover.
Sometimes I wonder how the chubby,
clumsy bumblebees
loping above the wild roses
along the shoreline
stay afloat.
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