It’s a Job

Daffy-eyed statue,
silly cyan feet,
the Booby rests on a rock.
Rank smell of salt-air

Beneath the lava
stretch ridges of turquoise waves.
Foam white caps
splash on boulders.

Its stomach signals
lift-off to the skies.
The bird floats high overhead,
folds its body to a sleek cylinder,
and dive-bombs to the shallows.

— December, 2013

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