a shoreline crop of bullrushes

tall green fronds waving in the breeze

the spikes dark

like this frank on a stick

blistered and blackened

the campfire vanquishes evening chills

as fish fry

tall tales are told

and hearts fly

against the setting sun the hawk

above a ripening field

plunges

strikes

rises

supper a la carte

at God's own table

authors note: the most wonderful discovery for me this summer....that the delight I once took in telling my juvenile grandsons my stories is far out-shone in my delight in these now young men telling theirs