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Poetry Pages


He stands at the edge of the lagoon
thinking how the shadows of two passing gulls
look like underwater crows.

The interplay of wind, water and light
determine how the ripple patterns unfold,
and a small white feather,
the only reminder of their flight,
is a victim of this elemental game -
its final destination easily foretold

He alone could effect a change
with a well-aimed stone,
or by wading in with his new grey shoes

the woman speaks at length of disparate sorrows,
a theory of the universe hanging from every word.
And as a bird seeks worms on this cold afternoon,
a tear trickles slowly from her veiled blue eyes
to rest on a high point of her cheek

The tear catches a little of the setting sun
and before he realises what is happening
he finds himself wading into another lagoon.

Derek Lee