Tuesday Poem – From the kitchen

I watch great gulls,
beaks curved like peeling knives,
pull mussels off the rocks
and drop them from a hover above the road.

The meat inside must be worth the work,
scraps of lunch surely remain unguarded
at the Fisherman’s Table.

In the harbour a looming ferry
tilts yachts in its wake.
While a loamy garden’s succulents
grow tough.

Tuesday Poem

2 thoughts on “Tuesday Poem – From the kitchen

  1. Strong images and language here – love the beaks like peeling knives, ‘looming’ and ‘loamy’ and the succulents growing tough. In fact, that’s it – the language is succulent and meaty. We have similar views, Saradha, on opposite sides of the harbour ? How did your Sunday reading go? I bet you were great. So sorry I didn’t make it. Family called.

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