Monday, 2 March 2015

Nightly rituals

The Old Man cormorant
Firmly perched on the 
Half-submerged trunk
Spreads wide open its wings
As a last salutation
To the late rays of the sun
Catching the last heat of the day
Before retiring for the night.

Swanee, the black swan,
Is still holding her nest
Siting high in the reeds waiting 
For her new brood to emerge 
Flexing anxiously her neck
To follow our passing by
On the weedy bank.

HMS, the pelican is back
And silently scours the water
In search of a late snack,
Motherly, Goosey
Strategically placed on the weir 
Is honking for the late ducks,
Calling everyone to bed.

Just a normal evening
On the neighbourhood creek
Settling down for the night.
Good night, sweet dreams.

Lucette C. Bailliet
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