Hungry, I skim steel water.
Graceful slant floating the westward wind,
sun glow on oiled feathers sleek the sky,
black bead eye bores the deep blue
just beyond the ocean’s curl and foam,
a gentle breathing slope ascent.
Suddenly,
neck arch, wing flare,
ungainliness unfurled,
flailing-focused-fall flapping,
gaping gullet-bill leading,
potential energy dispersed
on impact, my head drives shallow just beneath.
Stunned.
Head shake, fish-flop-throat.
Energetic flap gyrates my body.
Scatter-splash catches sun rising rays
as feet flail, walking on water
a moment before,
once again,
I skim
steel morning water.
—
Todd C. Truffin is a poet, teacher, and gustatory stimulator living in the Piedmont of North Carolina. His works have appeared in St. Katherine Review, Pilgrimage, Barstow & Grand, and the award-winning collection O! Relentless Death! Celebrity, Loss & Mourning.
