Heat

At night, the sound of rain falling upwards,
a resonance like untapped memory,
till dawn plants bird voices in soft thunder.
By day, the coast sequestered behind blue mist,
a platinum slick rides each wave. I crouch
where pools of cold flood the shallows' warmth
to watch terns on a row of rocks: black-capped
sentinels facing out to sea — heads lost,
forked tails and wing tips spiking air, as they groom.
The tide claims the rocks: an eyeblink switch from
squatness to wide-winged, virtuosic flair
scything a path over the estuary.
Clouds thin to air, the heat pulses more fiercely,
new energy rolls into the river.