Sunday, July 14, 2013
A long line fishing: women, men, children, rods high.
The fish are biting. The creels are full.
Gannets dive deep into the water, competing.
Wild roses everywhere. Breathe.
The loons call their loneliness
Into the slipping sun.
The dog paddles into the water, sniffing.
I watch the raven black crows smash
Crabs on the rocks.
The seagulls taught them this.