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Rosemary Dunn Moeller

Envious While Leaving Innis Mor* On The Ferry

Gannets follow the ferry back
from the island out of boredom,

shimmering white angels’ wings with
a tip of black for mortality.

They don’t even bother to feed, just float
and fly, dive and swoop,

confident of their mastery of sea and sky,
until they turn back to the island for low tide,

that social hour,

to strut impressively along crabby shores.
They sleep while floating on the rocking sea,

and maybe while soaring slowly
in concentric circles on thermals,

the envy of this airline traveler, skittering around
where I stumbled on rocks and broken shells.

There are probably no gannets in heaven;
they have no need to go.

 

*Innis Mor: Largest of the Aran Islands, Ireland