Linda Conroy
A Sea Change
The old factory frame looms above the frozen street.
Light gilds its bones. Pigeons, sparrows, perch on beams
gazing at the earth below, the alternating ice and mud
studded with debris of richer times, when garbage,
metal scraps, bent cans, torn paper, dirty rags,
was not thought to be a sign of our contempt.
Pigeons don't appear to mind gas fumes or traffic noise,
thick smoke from coal no longer underground
but a rock dove curves across the rough terrain,
a yearning for the river, its ripples calling,
tickling his need to free himself from toxic woe,
giving space for fascination of new growth.
We too may leave this place of boots and brogues,
find solace in the lifting shadows of sea's coast.
Bio
Linda Conroy, a retired social worker, likes to write about the complexities of human nature and our connection to the natural world. Her poems have appeared in various journals and anthologies. She is the author of two poetry collections, Ordinary Signs and Familiar Sky.