poetry by j matthew waters

a call to arms

the circle invitation
echoes from miles around
from a solitary flyer
high above the flooded
creek near oxfordshire

days of endless rain create
casualties on the ground
ripe for the taking
by just about anything
remotely intelligent

the size of the circle
grows wing by black wing
gaining strength and sailing
like a school of fish
in the overcast sky

once reconnaissance
confirms an opening
the dark circle transforms
into a ruthless carnivore
spiraling toward the earth

april two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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4 thoughts on “a call to arms

  1. John – I LOVE this – especially the third stanza ‘grows wing by black wing’ Wonderful! K

  2. This one reminds me of the brown pelicans I saw during my last trip. Very vivid imagery!

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