by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Unearthly stillness,
except for the sound of water
running in rivulets
down the face of cliffs
to the Great lake.
That is earthly.
Sandhill cranes
landing
as if on skirts of air,
suspended in mid-air,
slowly coming down
to start their spring dance:
Unearthly.
fourwindowspress 
Enjoyed seeing them here in southern Arizona before they headed north. Every landing is “unearthly.”
Nice to hear from you, always. Ethel
Beautifully sculpted. Great peace and rightness.
Thank you Ben Naga. Love Ethel
Love it Ethel! Conveys the scene beautifully and economically, and then leaves the mind floating.
Thank you John. Ethel
I leave this poem with my spirit lifted.
Thank you Ethel
David
I’m glad for your lifted spirit. Ethel
Ethel, I felt a floating sensation, reading of the cranes “unearthly” landing – how beautifully you’ve written this! Your poetry always stuns me with its beauty.
This means a great deal to me. Love Ethel