wingspan

a doe has leaped into the underbrush behind me,on the levy adjourning the woods;she hides there,

motionless.

at the same time, the blue crane has spotted me across the pond, under the trees lining the levy;

just at this moment my old dog Cotton halts on a spit on sand at the edge of the pond to sight the

bird;we are each on the string of each other's stillness; no one knows who is the arrow or the bow