Anhinga Drying Her Wings
A poem by Laurie Kuntz

Anhinga Drying Her Wings

Where has she flown
for the need to stop 
on a lily pad and spread 
wet tipped wings
under the ebb of day?

What venture caused 
her to dive into this lagoon 
black with its endless bottom?

Who are we, passersby, 
to disturb her stance 
on reeds fragile to sight 
and thought of these steps
we both make on sandy roads?

Under waning suns
winged and footed journeys 
are beginning anew

and ending, marked 
with the coming 
of first snow and last rose.

About the Author:

Laurie Kuntz has published two poetry collections (The Moon Over My Mother’s House, Finishing Line Press and Somewhere in the Telling, Mellen Press), and three chapbooks (Talking Me Off The Roof, Kelsay Books, Simple Gestures, Texas Review Press and Women at the Onsen, Blue Light Press). Her poetry has been nominated for three Pushcart Prizes and one Best of the Net. Happily retired, she lives in an endless summer state of mind. Visit her at:
https://lauriekuntz.myportfolio.com/home-1

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