Mangroves / Sea Cow’s Bay

Poetry / Richard Georges

black-winged birds frolic in the swampish pools.

The mangrove’s roots rise like reaching arms
from the lapping shallows, their propagules

dangling & whistling like hollow green chimes
over the creamy foam. The crowd of leaves

allows bars of the burnt evening’s light
to speckle bright lines of ivory

coral & shell, the argent scales
of schooling jacks under the pelicans.

Their spiny silvery dorsals mimic
small sails that billow & tuck & billow

their deaths an artful dance of wing & beak,
rust & gray, an eruption below depths.

Richard Georges is a writer, editor, and lecturer in the British Virgin Islands. His poetry has appeared in Smartish Pace, sx salon, Barrelhouse, The Caribbean Writer, Wasafiri and elsewhere.