Fishhawk

Ospreys on a river island cry. One is young woman crying as she wonders what will become of her. One is a young man dreaming of her and distraught because he can’t find her. A young man reaches after watercress blown left and right on the water, a lady always out of reach. He isn’t able to rest. He arrives without her, leaves without her, goes to sleep without her, and wakes up without her. The young women gathers watercress, left and right, gracefully, as if, in strumming a lute, a melody comes naturally. Watercress is everywhere. Ospreys fly from bank to bank. The ladies are happy. They sing as they work. On the riverbank, a young man beats his drum.