The evolution of truth Harry draws stick birds in the sand
and asks where do birds come from
so I tell him eggs
birds come from eggs
and of course he says
where do eggs come from
and we make it a game until he draws
a stick bird's egg in the sand
and says no really so I tell him
dinosaurs
so he draws in the sand
something with teeth
and looks down the beach
at the terns staring at their feet
listens to the big blackback yelping
a solitary flight into the grey wind
while I wait hoping like hell he won't ask
where he came from
and wondering if he does
whether I should tell him
dinosaurs.
I wrote this a couple of years ago. That's all I'll say about it.
Photo: Catlins beach; February 2006. No blackbacked gulls; not sure about the dinosaurs. (Click on it to get a larger image).
Photo and words © 2006 Pete McGregor
8 comments:
Wonderful poem, and wow, what a beautiful seascape. The water moving over the sand in the foreground really brings it all together.
Thanks Bev. Only a hundred metres or so away, a big swell was sending breakers crashing onto a rocky coast... the antithesis of this apparent serenity. The Catlins is a very special place.
What a great poem, Pete. The short answer to the big questions. Beautiful shoreline there, awesome and inspiring.
Thanks RD! :D
Lovely poem Pete.
I like looking at the profile of the rock in the water. On the left it looks like the face of a person lounging, the eye socket, the nose, the mouth, resting just above the water, and to the right, the long flowing locks stretched languidly out to catch the waves.
Thanks Tracy. Very pleased that you, as a poet, appreciate the poem. I'm interested, too, that you spotted the face in the photo: I didn't see it until quite late. When I took the photo I was focused (both senses) mostly on the foreground patterns. Guess there's a lesson there...
Good photo, & a graceful, down-to-earth, honest-to-god poem. Thanks.
Nice, Dave — cheers for that :^D
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