In These Cormorant Hours Poem by Mark Heathcote

I've never begun to understand,
The sea changing patterns beholden,
Withholding onto a woman's hand,
No matter how many times
Unwilled she can be emboldened.

The ever-changing wind still chimes
With me!
The ever-changing green sea grime's
Deep in the deepest blue coral waves
Of the world,
In the darkest barroom grave
With me!
Just to be hurled,
Unbroken like a bird like a wave
Sucked out on a storm just to be free!

In these cormorant hours spent, swift
On the wind like a sparrow hawk
With the thoughts of these old lovers uplift
On these wings, I still feel strong but hark
I, still feel in my heart
The emptiness of the dark
As a marginal, migrant, migrating
Longing to go back into the virginal bay
I left battered and bereft
A long, long, long time away…

Looking further from my lovers reach
Back along the stony cliffs
Unto the foaming beach
In a whirlpool of memory, I'm split, into fifths
Like the lemming jumping off the cliffs
I hightail because I can't be beholden
To an emboldened smile
No matter whomever, you think you are
This or any other times my cormorant star.