The birds that walk on water
have tapered feet. They fly off the
tree branches to the bird bath.
They are elegant swimmers in summer.
They swim out to the middle and
dip their heads under. These birds
have beaks of tired sand.
The walk on the beaches at night
leaving their simple footsteps.
A lighthouse, some desperate rocks.
A few of the prints lead out from the
young boardwalk, out to the old sea.
When they shake their wings
in order to fly, a sound moves
from the breakers. It curves its
way up the path leading to the dock's edge
where it settles on the barnacles.
Sometimes on a windy day, it is
the sound of sirens singing. It is
the swansong of ships at sea.
© 2017 Fin