Saturday, May 26, 2007

A stormie night in summer

for the time,
for the tide,
for the opportunity
to count our chickens;

This is no pastime for the impatient;
patrolling empty nets
fluttering like cobwebs
in the bright moon’s reflected light.
Persevering through uneventful hours,
untold ornithologists

The objects of our attention,
dainty motes on the vast ocean’s surface,
dare not venture close to shore
while even lunar luminescence lingers;
they are such easy pickings.
So we wait.

The bark and chatter of distant relatives
(in both space and time)
relentlessly call the timid travellers to the cliffs.
Perhaps the lure of companionship
will weaken the mariners’ resolve
and ease ennui’s weight.

Until the patter
of those tiny,
webbed feet
trip and tangle
in the dark threads
of our trusty traps,
we watch

Dr David Kelly, 2007

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