(for Joe Kennedy)
Out there, on that rock
licked by the waves,
life is pampering itself:
a solitary cormorant
spreads his great wings
to embrace the heat;
nearby, six guillemots,
stunned by the sun,
preen like a foreign legion
waiting to be inspected.
These creatures are wiser
than we are, who have spent
all afternoon struggling
through gorse, tearing
our clothes, risking
our necks, on the off-chance
that we’ll be privileged
to see such self-absorption.
