the morning sun
breaks above the trees.
she stands ankle deep
in a stagnant pond,
her bare feet
planted firmly
in soft mud.
from her hip a bag
hangs casually
by a single strap.
jet black hair
flaming in the breeze,
handfuls of seeds
are scattered.
done, she faces
the far bank. there,
her one true love
supported by a crutch
waves, then shields
his eyes
against the rising sun
