top of page

Walking the Shore of Newfoundland

by Andrew Williams


As thunder rumbles from the nimbus overhead,

a northern Fulmer wings its way over the glassy

glacial giant. The frozen mammoth levitates

above the ocean floor, glistening a deep aquamarine.

Though blue bolts from heaven touch down,

waves whump, and waftings slap the shore,

the solid magic carpet floats at its own pace,

unmoved by the whirling cone of grayish haze.

Yet through the dimness I still see the clowns

of the sea waddling by the cliffs, the humpbacks

high-fiving the startled seaway, and a familiar

figure as a colossal wave holds up a mirror.


 

About the author:

Andrew Williams is a poet living In Pennsylvania, USA. He has been been published in various magazines and journals such as The BeZine Quarterly, Briefly Zine, Fevers of the Mind, Ink Sweat & Tears, Red Eft Review, Trouvaille Review, among others. He is also the editor of East Ridge Review, a poetry review platform. Twitter: @eastridgereview


More by the author includes At Dawn.



Photo: Sunrise by Erato via Wombo

Related Posts

See All

I Am Your Daughter

I was afraid that all I would remember were snippets of me asking her, “Do you remember me still?"

Comments


bottom of page