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Rated: E · Other · Cultural · #1701346
An unrhymed 4X4 of destruction.
Pelican watches
sisters and brothers wash up.
It knew waters like blue skies.
Lost flocks linger in his sad eyes.

Sisters and brothers washed up.
Is this the way we live,
spreading wings, no way to fly?
Is this the way we die?

It knew, waters like blue skies
Pontchartrain and the Bayou
grass, rocks and sand,
sheen upon bay and land.

Lost flocks linger in sad eyes,
another memory of what was,
nature tossed aside like swill.
Pelican keeps vigil.



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