so often the number of geese
veed in a skein is twelve, or if not
then thirteen, what of thirteen pelicans
strung across the sky like asymmetrical
cross-stitch — the long cupped wings
the shorter head to tail — they glide
above the beach as if tracing
a parallel line, skim the sea along
the same parallel, their wingtips
nearly touching the waves in search of
food, then the sudden lift & whirl & plunge
each strike punishingly loud, their eyes
open to see the fish, rumor only
says pelicans go blind from their dives
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