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

Underwhelmed

 

By a flattened stretch of water

That rocked us into

Complacency. I stayed.

 

You flew away.

 

Copyrighted by the author

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