On Visiting an Unnamed Swamp

by Ahrend Torrey

Amid high brown cypress in thick
dark air, amid the scent of dirt

and fern, Water Moccasin
lurks head-up, through

black water— question mark,
after question mark.

Cicadas in the distance—
buzz, buzz. Some-

where between they merge
with crickets’ chirp

lacing through the dark air:—
what throbs and throbs of faint light.