55 Pelican Halcyon Low tide of winter, beach shines to the eye Wide as the sea itself for my late run And the sea light-streaked and smoothed out to a sun Red in horizon fog, and already high A piece of the moon’s rim, in the neuter sky. Quiet. Sun flattens to an oval on The fogbank; to a glowing bar; then gone. And in the pallor, one pelican flaps by, Black on the afterglow; and another, black Out on the pale sea, silently splashing down Makes yet another pelican silhouette With the thrown water; I seeing this all alone, It happens, with the one sound as I head back The slip-slap of my feet along the wet. 108