Fingal's Cave

The eagle soared pinnacle high above Fingal-- wide-winged, darting his beak between fabric cotton-tops and a few glass drops, a'fallen from the cobalt blossom Below, from inside the grey gravitas, echoes of mica and glass laughter shattered the throes of torch-heightened shadows-- like white smoke-stacks, puffing from the lips of rose-gold champagne flutes And later, as the swells grew grander, crossing with belly-flopping slaps into sea-foamed stones, the eagle continued his pendulum like flight back-and-fro, back-and-fro gliding, like a ribbon of cigarette smoke While the cavern, shiny and wrapped by blue, kept separate our rival enjoyments, like a violin removed from its bow-- but never asked either to avoid this place, or our chance to pound the earth, and play August 4, 2016 For contest: Caves Sponsor: Anthony Slausen