Timothy Francis Savage

Kingfisher

I have been writing poetry most of my life I love how so much can be said using so little. I am not a literary person but have always enjoyed this form which drips out of me, for reasons I can’t explain, almost constantly. I have written poems to try and explain this like Surfers Block, Special Pre…






Patiently waiting, watching.
Still as an hour hand.
Vibrant blue, red and yellow,
Melted into the depths
Of overhanging green.
Eruditely evading the senses
Of underwater prey.
Shadows move beneath
In swift currents of molten glass.
Sensitive to a presence
Beyond the watery realm.
Feet slip the perch.
A plummeting arrow in an emerald tunnel.
Ripples in the glaze,
A rude fusion of hunger and pain,
Lifted into earthly union.

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