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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