Seabird
Posted on | February 21, 2012 | 1 Comment
On our recent stay in Florida we saw thousands of birds along the shore, hopping before the surging foam, diving toward the waters, clipping inches over the waves. This image arose as my eyes followed their graceful search for food. For you grammarians the poem has something missing. Is it missing, or is its absence just a pointer to some transcendent realm? Let me know what you think.
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To have one
only body
and ungraspingly
possess it…
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One Response to “Seabird”
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wood upon a lathe, these poems are word-turnings that reveal the inner grain of our human experience. They are bowls to catch our turnings of memory, conversion, falling in love, and passing through our seasons and the wrenching turns that mark our lives. Above all these turnings are a shout of praise, a murmur of wonder, a turning away from life as usual, a merciful re-turning to the songs, images and stories that move our lives.
Red Clay, Blood River
February 21st, 2012 @ 1:07 pm
Another great poem. Thanks again!!!