Mount Arrowsmith - view from the Quay
benevolent gray wings looming over the harbour,
head tilted auspiciously,
as if she were about to empty
a basket of blessings
bounteously
upon our gray little town.
Behind us, and up the hill
stood Arrowsmith,
the chill from the fresh snow
on its peaks
riding the currents all the way down
to the Quay.
Pigeons, seagulls, and one small sparrow
hovered anxiously
near the donut shop,
hoping for necessary crumbs
which we spilled with largesse,
like ministering angels ourselves,
if only for those brief moments,
when a few small creatures' needs
were, however imperfectly, fulfilled.
