PTERODACTYL CIRRUS

“I wondered lonely as a cloud” (William Wordsworth)

The tropical wind slowly deconstructs the pterodactyl
soaring above the island. The Jacobin head goes first
whispering farewell to the emancipated neck. A man-of-war,
meandering on the horizon, waxes subtle & sirens all hands on deck.

Letting the flurry of drops hit the windmills of long division,
left wing of the Pre-bird severs, smoothly peels off and curls.  
A school of flying fish darts out and thrills your vision 
like the fireworks charged with silvery pearls.

No stopping the great blue eye, overflowing with September
passion, from pouring its pupil’s glow into soft aqua’s lap!
Light holds the beholder in a thin-walled globe of amber
being like Brahma everywhere at once outside the taps.

Time, steering the pterodactyl’s trunk west, completes
the lesson in Harmony: must equate the speeds
of vision and sound; model: flying dinosaur; date: precedes
the Flying Fortresses; availability: not around.