Cormorants
Cormorants,
Gathered on the rocks.
A coven of watery witches.
Arms akimbo.
Beaks skyward.
Eyes fixed on the dome of clouds, drying black
on black winged robes as they watch the passing waves.
Cormorants,
Rotating slowly in a graceful ballet.
Sunlight streaming through moisture-matted
feathers giving rise
To hazy humid steam prayers.
They daydream of oily fish sliding down
their gullets.
They meditate on the freedom of flight.
Cormorants,
Millions of them diving as one into the
belly of the sea.
Millions of them breaking the surface,
A cascading fountain of
BLACK, BLACK, BLACK!
Cormorants,
Gathered on the shores of our lives.
Masters of all Worlds,
Observing our frail, feeble, flightless
flesh passing by.
“What a pity” they think nodding to each
other.
Keith Boyd 2013
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