Marsh Sentinel in Teal

Within the teal hush, the long-legged bird keeps still; Its shadow writes on water, slow as patient will. Reeds whisper soft secrets where orange petals gleam, And silence turns to glass, reflecting wake and dream. A cream of distant noon surrounds the printed scene; Old poster ink remembers places never seen. The marsh breathes out its calm, a tender, tidal light, As day leans into dusk and holds the world upright.