November with Yeats, Day 26

‘I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea!’ W.B. Yeats

 

From here the sea is a pewter plate
running between the headlands.
The gorse is bittersweet yellow,
and the shore rocks are grey.
We can see the gannets gather,
a chaos of white, whirling wings,
and hear the clear crack sound
as they hit the water.

There are mackerel there.

The gannets are wild in their greed,
plunging again and again –
each bird a blade. If we
were fishermen we’d follow them,
sharing the plunder.

But we are just spectators, feet planted
on the land. We are distanced,
watching the rising, falling,

sharing this scene.

There is no gentleness in these
white birds, just a mad
hunger, death streamlined,
folded into those narrow wings,
refracted in the shift
between the elements.

No gentleness, but beauty
is sometimes fierce, and strange,
and love is painful sometimes.

 

November with Yeats – day 26. Thank you, Jane, for curating these wonderful prompts. Nearly there!

9 thoughts on “November with Yeats, Day 26

  1. Sarah, This is so well crafted! Great phrases – pewter plate and each bird a blade – wow. The last two stanzas bring the eye in close and hit the reader hard. Those final observations about beauty and love are so finely tuned – the birds and the watchers.

    Like

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