Not a goose in sight
but all around are signs
of last night's roosting,
half a mile
of sea-smoothed sand studded
with droppings, the dune edge
flecked with feathers,
scatterings of breast down
heaped in hollows, filling
the small spaces
between sand sedge
and sun-bleached driftwood,
or trapped on tips of marram,
a flurry of restless pennants
fluttering.
Mavis Gulliver, Scotland, UK
4 comments:
Mavis says: I am never sure if I'm a naturalist who writes poetry or a poet who is inspired by the natural world. My poems are based on meticulous observation and I always check facts. I get very cross about poems which give incorrect details. Much of my writing is done in a log cabin on the shore of my garden on the Isle of Islay.
My poems have appeared in such magazines as Envoi, Iota and Poetry Scotland, and in anthologies 'No Space but their Own' Grey Hen Press 2010, 'Shropshire Butterflies', Fairacre Press, 2011, and 'These Islands We Sing, Polygon 2011.'
Besides writing poetry I am a regular contributor of illustrated articles to the magazine 'Scottish Islands Explorer'.
Infinity remnants of histories on a beach and let's never forget the sea itself:
"It tosses up our losses,..."
It's a great poem with the final lines echoing with "flurry" and "fluttering".
And in a setting which is the same ( even if, I suppose, on another latitude!)that saw me start writing poetry in English in the 90's.
Thank you Juliet for your wishes.
Actually it's a nasty flu, I have never had it in this "early" time of the year, most certainly it has been an involuntary present from some student at school...
Anyway I have mentioned your blog and Mavis's poem in a new post in mine.
All my best.
Thanks for your comments Tommaso - and for passing the poem on to others. Sorry about the flu and hope you'll be feeling better soon. Where in the world is your beach?
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