Its beak is just above the black mud,
head resting on the thick sludge.
One black eye looks at us.
There is no accusation in that gaze,
no recriminatory stare
not even a plea for rescue.
Only that dimming lens,
that looks now,
at a clean patch of sky
as if it were God.
Its beak is just above the oily mud.
Head resting on the thick sludge.
One black eye looks at us.
There is no accusation in that gaze,
no recriminatory stare,
not even a plea for rescue.
Only that dimming lens,
looking at a clean patch of sky.
beak just above the oily mud
head resting on thick sludge
one dull eye looks
there is no accusation
no recriminatory stare
only that dimming lens
seeking a clean patch of sky
Its beak is just above the oily mud.
Head resting on the thick sludge.
One black eye looks at us.
There is no accusation in that gaze.
No recriminatory stare,
not even a plea for rescue.
Only that dimming lens
that looks at a clean patch of sky.
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