The Loon at Shackford Head
A poem.
The Loon at Shackford Head
In the cove below where I stand,
the ghost of sea-smoke
beneath a cold sky, icy underfoot,
then I see the loon, at first
motionless, a petroglyph,
before it turns to face the north
and I see its foreneck, a pillar
of the purest salt, as it fills
the bay with a single glacial call.
– Tom Sexton
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