A darkness is coming in
through the marsh grasses
and, like Erebus,
it fills every space with shadow.

The red-winged blackbird ascends,
revealing wings marked
like stigmata.

Cranes turn their heads
toward the coming,
and give pause
but do not leave.

The fishermen seine
but pull in an empty mess.

When the veil is drawn
over all living things—

when there is no more
reprieve—

breasts heave
and gills open and close
and open and close
then
stop.