The Story, Rewritten

Out beyond the sunken shallows,

a saltwater bay,

almost still,

save for one loon.

 

This loon,

alone,

and I sink down,

interpretation low and sad.

 

I imagine it lost,

abandoned,

its mate long gone:

that storm,

those lights,

that boat.

 

But if I bend it back,

change the story

I can see it content,

after a morning bath,

she’s clean and alert,

a webbed foot thrust out behind,

as it floats,

giving in to the currents,

it knows deep

in the silence of its bones.

 

A small boat approaches from the north,

and then I hear it:

a quick trilling tremolo of warning.

 

There’s another loon,

beyond the buoys,

swimming in.

 

I am hushed,

and humbly whisper,

“I’m sorry.”

 

I leave them to what they know:

water,

inside and out,

fresh and salty.

 

Alone and together.

 

The story,

rewritten.

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