Thursday, April 27, 2023

Loon (Alice Bea Guerin), Sonnet #602





















As if lethal it’s called a “loon fallout”:

The migrating birds wing so high,

Their feathers grow heavy with ice

(Instinct won’t drive them a warmer route)

And they drop, too encumbered to fly.

Their backs are black, dotted like dice.

They aren’t able to walk on the ground.

Red eyes glare, fish-spearing beaks clack.

Their dusk-born two-note wails don’t sound. 

If rescued (which they fight), taken back

To water, they’ll drown in a small pond.

They need a quarter mile and beyond,

Wings thrashing, feet running on water,

Or they’ll stall, and all flying will falter.

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