First hands —
Seconds tick by —
ghost trios disappear.
There, stillness dances —
round our hearts’ perimeters.
Their favorite Alaskan legends —
renewed and gently resuscitated.
Still, reckless island profile-makers
site seals dotting the Aleutian Chains.
Odd disturbed flights of harvest-mares rise
–yet will only snare the rarest of wooden birds.
. . . . .
Poet: Susan Powers Bourne
Source: Bierds’ book titles
Process: Augmented cento