The Colour of Long Wings Spread

The Colour of Long Wings Spread

We stole
from an old blue
heron, for our pale eyes
today, the colour of those long
wings spread

open
as it fell out
of a morning sky smeared
with thin cloud into the wide, flat
harbour.

All day
long, our vision
was wet tangles of black
seaweed; and all our hungers white
salt blooms.

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
This entry was posted in Art is lies, Cinquain, John MacKenzie, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Spring, Summer, The Sea and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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