Pause for the Pelicans

The back-lit pelicans have landed.
The right time at the beach was captured by those yearning for elation and hope.
The glow of alabaster feathers among the azure waters gives me pause.
I drank the bird medicine and hid my serpentine neck with a butterfly scarf and set out to celebrate.
I succumbed to the fact that there are people who hate poetry and birds and celestial wanderings.
To those that don’t pause for back-lit pelicans, their landing on earth must be numb.
Pause for the pelicans.


I was on F for full, ready to rain down gold slivers.
Slivers of friendship. Slivers of service.
After living as a hermit, I drove into town and
hadn’t stared into the eyes of other people for months.
I could look intently once again and see other worlds.
F is for full-time beauty.