James Mills


Voids - Poem by James Mills

Rushes shade the shallows,
dark heads nod -
agreeing with the breeze.

Dads tap dashboards,
Mums watch their own
kids skimming flattish stones,
not, exactly, aiming at swans.

Further out; plunging
from grey to utter black,
water splits;
Blue-green mother bird is
plucked, squawking downwards,
sucked under,
bubbling her final anguish.

Downy brood circle the vortex
nudging broken water.

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Poem Submitted: Friday, June 17, 2005

Poem Edited: Friday, June 17, 2005


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