Here they are, certain as planets,
two lemon, one copper on a spiked
branch of mock orange. Wings
tilt, citrus light through leaded
glass, painted eye smooth.
Soul’s laughter long away returned.
The scent of wind spins a summer
hour open to orbit.
Sea Ravens
Small cloud shadows
open the sea, translucent
dark – midtide, cormorants
ride off the breakwater
on the ribs of waves
to dive for stars.
Down through watered
silk they thread to kelp
and crab – wings wound,
they drop where gold
sifts deeper. Deeper, they
seize the flash and rise.