Sunday, January 16, 2005
White Pelicans
by Henry Burt Stevens
A woods walker
I become excited
when coming to a
No Tresspassing sign.
They aren't watching
how are they going to stop me?
I cross back and forth
their property line at will.
One day on county land
a gate with sign, "No One
Enter Beyond This Point."
I entered quickly and
wandering came to a
hidden brackish pond
on which 100 plus
white pelicans swam.
Dozen others circled
and wheeled in the blue
air above. Transformed,
I filled my eyes and mind.
If there is an election
to return as something
I believe I'll be a white pelican.
Even though the joys of
tresspass will be absent.
A woods walker
I become excited
when coming to a
No Tresspassing sign.
They aren't watching
how are they going to stop me?
I cross back and forth
their property line at will.
One day on county land
a gate with sign, "No One
Enter Beyond This Point."
I entered quickly and
wandering came to a
hidden brackish pond
on which 100 plus
white pelicans swam.
Dozen others circled
and wheeled in the blue
air above. Transformed,
I filled my eyes and mind.
If there is an election
to return as something
I believe I'll be a white pelican.
Even though the joys of
tresspass will be absent.
