Cold fog hovers in the coastal highlands
Mixed with lingering rain. The inert stream
Quickens: water fingers the creekbed sands,
Deepening the pools and smooth shoals between.
Where the creekmouth spreads upon the sandbar
Waters mix and the seaward salmon wait.
Through the sluice, thick fins glide. Dark angular
Shadows, each turning in the plunging strait,
A hived consort of quickening arrows.
Through pine-vizored precincts the high run mounts,
Leaping the cataract, spanning narrows,
Pure force and motion.