The tide is high
In Strangford Lough
No room to wade on the shoreline
The water is lapping against the wall
I’m safe here on the ledge
My favourite spot
Jutting out of the water
I’ll wait
And keep warm
With my neck
Sunk between my shoulder blades
I’ll wait
Till the water recedes
I’ll wait
To dart at some tiny fish
Lingering in the shallows
I know their hiding places
I’m too old
To fly from my perch
To find another spot
I’ll leave
Those fishing grounds
To the younger ones.
I’ll wait
Healed of Cancer. Angela McCauley 
This is a really lovely poem, Angela, full of great thoughts. Thanks so much for sharing it with us – and the excellent photo, as well!
Gerry, Glad you liked my poem. I was inspired by seeing this bird as in photo. That is a complement coming from a poetess. Angela