Traces
Big bird has been here but gone
leaving pitchfork footprints across sand,
avian evidence of recent visit, exodus,
hasty airborne departure.
Mysteries deepen.
The usual gulls are absent this morning.
Dispirited blackbirds hold down the fort,
grumble as they forage through flotsam.
No pelicans or terns.
Just chill summer, dying pines,
incongruous drought
in the midst of faux drizzle.
Jennifer Lagier has an affinity for warm hounds and cold reptiles.
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