poetry = nonsense
nonsense = meaninglessness
meaninglessness = void
void = nothingness
nothingness = spirit

large birds circle overhead -- a healthy flock one screams at the others now and again but it means nothing, it’s merely the release of a little chest filled with excitement for seeing the extent of the bay below feathers flutter in the warm spring air the creatures canvass the landscape below scrutinising the labours of a colony of industrious ants bustling about clad in loose garments, crossing the waters in sloops, schooners and trawlers the occasional zip-line adventurer screaming with delight the birds float effortlessly contemplating the spectacle without haste, secure in their distance whilst I look up at the ever changing pattern of their flight, comprehending it as the vagaries of my own imagination [18-IV-2021]
Copyright © 2011 Erick Calder
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