Bill snaps, sky calling, rose pink yammering!
A lighthouse blinks,
splashing stars upon the rocks.
Curling paths, ribboning into the sky,
wings locked; I say goodbye.
My harbour, my soulmate, will wait beyond time as
Diomedes calls me into the sharp salt air.
Dynamic soaring, deep blue winds roaring,
yet with gentle ease I will forever glide
over icy oceans, sailing peaceful solitude.
Black tips of fingered feathers ride,
outstretching sea and sky.
A mariner’s magic rime is nigh.
Downy soft, coaldust black, gently touching
a white so pure now, as ages pass,
where once a dust of palest golden glows
was youthful shimmering in the light.
Ancients’ kohl defines my eyes,
and travelling transfixed I stare
at the evening stars’ endangered glare.
Navigating extinction,
do you not want me here?
Blowing me shoreward after worlds have spun,
seeking safety, I return, and land,
loyally, once more, unto your hands.
A lighthouse blinks.
Victoria Mottart
Gisborne, NZ
