Along the Margins

Standing, pole firmly planted in the mud where I slipped and fell, I slipped toes into water, leaning, leaning, leaning out to the yoke where the damselflies hung, they on the margin of plant, I on the margin of the pond.

And then I heard from the drive on the margin of the pond's other side, up through dead branches and new leaves, Did you like see him like last night? I mean like he was so like drunk he was . . . [laughing] . . . vomiting like puking chunks like all over his like shirt . . . [laughing]. And then Yeah like I've never like been that s***-faced like before like wow man and he shifted his 12-pack to the other hand, as they walked on to the graduation party.

Nothing disturbs the Southern Spreadwings, deaf as they are, alert to movement, and nothing disturbs me standing  -- still, reaching.