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
Copyright © Sam Jameson | Year Posted 2016
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