by Ethel Mortenson Davis

Because we walked
to the edge of the water,
a loon surprised us
with two young
clinging on her back—
geometric black and white spots
on top of a still,
early morning mirror.


Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry

8 responses to “Mirror

  1. Exquisite image… I love this, Ethel.

  2. sayword

    just lovely

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