drifting wispy, the soaring fossil wings of feathered flight-
today the wind retires, royal palms are royal still beside
black vultures flocked and jostling carrion in dawn's rosy light.
White pelicans soar in formation with black tipped chevrons
riding warm thermals that rise from this prairie coastal strip,
a synchronicity unspoken controls the swooping squandron
on a blue canvas under the drooped mahogany's mossy tips.
Mud clay banks bunk over a beach strewn with swollen reeds
where footprints slide to gush at tides but never to stay at all:
no trace will ever tarry for the pert killdeer's feigning needs
nor save the brown splash of the proud pelican's swift fall.
The rustle in the bushes that made you freeze and turn behind
is a snake that slithers, mostly, in the mangrove of your mind.
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Mmmm this makes me want vacation. The end is very goosebump-y indeed. Bravo my dear sir.
ReplyDelete@Autumn: Thanks hon. I was worried the ending of this was just a bit trite. I am on permanent vacation. Check out
ReplyDeletehttp://astralnomads.blogspot.com
Oh my goodness you are on permanent vacation, lucky man. And the ending is not trite at all, it brings it all together and makes it seem not overly glorious, but still awesome.
ReplyDelete@Autumn: Yeah. For some reason, since I hit the road, I have only be writing sonnets, mostly about the places I've been. Weird.
ReplyDeleteanother lovely sonnet; i like your pelicans, but then, again, the pelican is such a poetic bird!
ReplyDeletegreat work, gerry.
hope you are having a wonderful grand season.
Fabulous last line, Gerry.
ReplyDeleteWarm and woolly wishes for 2011! xx
@Harlequin: thx for continuing to read. I hope have a stellar 2011.
ReplyDelete@Tess: Glad that resonated. Wishing you and yours all the warmth of the season and a happier than ever twenty eleven.
ReplyDeleteThe rustle in the bushes that made you freeze and turn behind
ReplyDeleteis a snake that slithers, mostly, in the mangrove of your mind.
After I read this, the word that sprang to mind was 'Ausgezeichnet', in German, and I had hell's own job to find out how to spell it to write it here!
I loved the unexpected traditional form - it sparkled like a faceted gem amongst other stones which had been tumbled, to show natural beauty, but lacked the addition of a lapidarist's craft.
@Jinksy: A well-crafted comment. The last line is poetry in itself! I only speak a little German so I had to look that up. Thanks,
ReplyDelete