Bayou

by Louis E. Bourgeois

 

A boat burns on the shore.
Swallows rise through the smoke.
The tide has not stopped moving.
Silver carp gasp for thin air.
A gar keeps rolling on the surface,
Seeking its dark breath.
On the horizon, something falls
From the pink sky.
Not an angel or a man, something
Mechanical or only half alive.
In the grass, the stone dogs
Begin to coil their tails
And lick their purple gums.

 

©2005 Louis E. Bourgeois

Louis E. Bourgeois is an instructor of English at Rust College. His most recent collection of poems, OLGA, was just released by WordTech. He lives on a farm in North Mississippi where he is completeing a short story collection called The Gar Diaries. His website is www.voxjournal.com.