Hunting Ground

Look now
from Liberty Hill
traversing the bowl-shaped town:

A train of pale mist;
it hovers above
Mission Creek,

hugging the contours
of the now-buried
old canal.

The hard, bright sun
will burn it off
by 9 o'clock.

With it will go
the ghosts of hunters
who stalked this land

when whales spouted
in the dark-green bay
and no man overstayed

__________his welcome.