E.G. Burrows





Two above me rattling

in agile dogfight hugely

exuberant I thought they were

small hawks they were kingfishers

this August the old pursuit

and nipping at heels joy

of the genially royal and tail-spinning.


Theres nothing Id rather do:

whoop and holler and backtalk

over the banal marina

and boat dock above the pawky

rock doves and bawling gulls

on their outposts I am tired

of the dull wait or the brawling

over schools of the meek and tasteless.

Id rather spar and peel off.

Id rather rattle.

Copyright 2003 E.G. Burrows.  All Rights Reserved.

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