A Pelican Returns

Or migrates, plonked into

A city pond from somewhere

Looking rather smug…


Well you would, I guess

After flapping your way

Around this lucky country


Like the first flight

To the far south.

I didn’t make it, but then


I have no wings

Being grounded in the present.

I last saw your huge frame


Placidly sailing midwinter lakes

Far away, both of us



By a flattened stretch of water

That rocked us into

Complacency. I stayed.


You flew away.


Copyrighted by the author

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