by Gay Reiser Cannon
(Port Aransas, TX)
Gliding
Seagulls
Cry
In response to each wave's spray
Salt
Sea
Tears
For the whooping cranes
That fly from Aransas Pass.
New
Hazy
Night
Why must they leave?
The rhythmic water
Slaps the white sand,
Brown and green reeds
Join all nature to play this symphony.
Can it not preserve the ballet,
These shadowed cranes against
A bone-white porcelain moon?
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