A moving and interesting story well told. You will have felt very
privileged.
There is an interesting use of language in several places which I found
delightful but arresting and stopped my read.e.g 'Unwinding from the bobbin
sky' now I can see the association of 'winding' with 'bobbin' and that is
not a problem but then there is part of me asking what a 'bobbin sky' looks
like.This is not an objection to the conceit in any way, in fact I find it
delightful, as I say, but it makes me pause as I read and is that a good
thing? If this were the only conceit I would not be concerned but I
paused/stumbled in a similar manner with 'summer years', 'high tuba calls'
and ' mid oven'.
These are just my personal comments on what I found to be a fine poem.
regards Arthur.
----- Original Message -----
From: "Philip Burton" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Sunday, October 06, 2002 9:04 PM
Subject: THE HERRING GULL
The Herring Gull PHILIP BURTON
When days were young
I'd rig a hide, out on the rocks
at the heels of the ebb tide
and be with herring gulls.
Summer years
were given to the task
with no return but the ocean
and finding my calmer side.
Unwinding from the bobbin sky
the birds threw off
high tuba calls
without sacrifice of altitude.
Forty shades of green meat
failed to feed a single beak.
Gulls dipped and rose as though
a glass floor kept them.
Then, one preternatural day
in the mid oven of noon
tamely on stiff skin legs
a herring gull came.
A vestige of line strayed
from the loud sunshine beak
and, no question mark,
a fishing-hook
had snared her craw.
Something must have said,
Go to that man down there -
he's mad, but means okay.
I didn't ask the vet
what procedure had to say
but watched the claws ease
as the steel was drawn away.
When I'm down or ill
I stretch my arms and hear
a trumpeting of skies
and strong wings rising.
_________________________________________________________________
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