golden light bathes you round
full-bellied fisher in
sleek feathered reef knot
A few metres' walk across rock pools and mussel beds takes you to Cuthbert's Island. You can only get there at low tide. Watch for the heron. He'll come to fish as the shallows deepen, clockwork warning of the turning of the tide. It can cut you off. If seals break water on the outer channel, catching you in a dark moon eye, then you most need to stay, but you can't.
Evening light fits the cove rock, a mouthful of gold. Cormorant bathes in amber, deeply still, head under wing.
You, freeze, trying to stop a moment flowing by.
Or don't freeze.
Live it.
Then turn. Face the Holy Island. Wade back.
Pray, Work..
December 12, 2014
YOU ARE READING
BIRDSONG
PoesiaShort poems and a wandering mind. Life and love in the twinkle of a bird's eye. "Evening light fits the cove rock, a mouthful of gold. Cormorant bathes in amber, deeply still..." #29 non-fiction, #38 poetry. #5 haiku! These are in lots of differ...