bird island looms
the surrounding sea bubbles and dances
salt spray spits unceremoniously
merging with continuous grey cloud
light drizzle limewashes the colonized cliff
a busy yet tranquil sanctuary appears
cape breton cormorant and playful hometown puffin
a gentle prodding of sweet mother's wing
speeds away a precocious prodigal son
hardening, honing, homing.
an american golden eagle sharpons its viselike talons
...its beauty unfathomable, its danger immeasurable...
on the rocky precipice of row condos.
valiant patriot guards practise their death spirals
their will impenetrable and noble
as the cold grey atlantic relents
and languishes in the heat of the summer
unaware of time, place, and circumstance
and the urgency of the moment
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Thursday, July 8, 2010
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3 thoughts:
must be too anti-american :)
I've only been to Canada once, Niagra Falls, (very lame indeed), and Nova Scotia sounds simply breath-taking in the way you've described it here.
I can only dream of visiting places like this. I don't get out much, unfortunately. :(
Those puffins sure seem like cute birds, too.
With each word, an image was painted and I thought for sure I had been transported to the island. Where time, place, circumstances, and urgency is non-existent. Wonderfully done, as usual, Peter.
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