The great blue’s graveled cry
rings the harbor south to east
to north to rest on the highest
twig of the tallest greenest tree.
Surely one could ask why
this record is required — each day’s
shot of the same ocean, harbor, sky.
Face it, tomorrow today’s
world could be over —
waterfowl exiled to grittier
climes, harbor silted
in cracked plates of slime,
ocean floor all smoke,
off & on flame.
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