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| Luna Paesch |
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| The Pelican Poem |
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| Woodcut |
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| 24 x 18 in |
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| 10 |
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| $200 |
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The Pelican
Walking along Rodeo Beach
Tiny gravel-like pebbles under my bare soles,
Icy water laps at my toes, and in the distance
A long row of pelicans glides low above the water,
Following the coast line.
Later, sitting on a blanket
I see pelicans circle high up
Eying their prey below the waves,
Hurtling their heavy bodies straight down,
Adjusting aim in awkward shudders,
Plunging into the deep.
There goes another:
Long beak pointing down
The rapid descend begins,
Wings askew,
The wobble,
The plunge,
Emerging with a caught fish.
Drifting off, I start dreaming about my mother,
The trip we took down the coast.
When I open my eyes, there he sits on a log
Staring at me with one eye.
I stare back and wonder
If pelicans will still be here when we are gone,
Ancient stewards of this land and sea.
On my way back I find a long wing feather and take it home.
Luna Ruth Paesch, January 2020
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