Flight of Fancy
Just by chance, I caught this cormorant.
“Behind you, quick,” said Clare.
I turned and ‘Click!’
Such a miracle:
the first steps of flight
taken over water.
That first step heavy,
the second one lighter,
and the third one
scarcely a paint brush
pocking the waves.
The need to take flight
lies deep within me.
Fleeing from what?
Running towards what?
Who knows?
All I know is that the future
lies to the right of this photo
and the past lies to the left,
and I don’t know
the meaning of either.
But I do remember the words
of Antonio Machado:
‘Caminante, no hay camino,
sólo hay estela sobre la mar.’
“traveler, there is no road,
just a wake across life’s sea.”
Comment: I revised this poem a few minutes ago and cut it down to its essentials. If you want to read the original and check the revisions, click on this link to the earlier poem. Any comments on the rewrite and the revision process would be welcome.
