Peter Chapman Poetry

Six Birds, Ocean

for Polly


Over my shoulder, flying south, two herons joined, the one on the left flying fast, overtaking,
talking a lot of heron, diving into a cove, the other rising high, like a scorn over the trees, east.


Chasing hard, an eagle caught two gulls, one dropping his fish as the eagle batted wind at me,
the booming huff as he caught the fish mid-air reversing, the gulls going after him, to live and learn.


From nowhere into here a hummingbird came, sticking into the yellow flowers like a boy with his water pistol,
soaking you, laughing on a summer's day, his dark bright laugh.

Duck Cove, Aug 2009