Petite arctic terns
navigate the sky
on epic migration
wings clocking
45,000 miles each year

it seems they know
how to go
with the flow
by thumbing a lift
on atmospheric airways

that crisscross the planet
adding thousands of
seemingly needless miles
to an already
arduous journey

flocks congregate
in open ocean
to rest and fuel up
on fish and krill
for the last push home

these tenacious birds
understand
the cliché
it's all about
the journey

they synchronize
with invisible currents
because to beat
into the wind
is a futile expenditure

they pause
in community
to re-energize and feed
on unfathomable
bounty

four ounces
of feather
and hollow bone
instinctively holds
these truths

there is much
to be learned
from an
arctic
tern.

Most of  the time
We have no eyes to see
Nor ears to hear
The world
Surrounding us,
The cacophony

We are bullied
And bruised
By blinders
Unwittingly fitted
By our many minders

Watch out
For willow trees
Through the day
Sit under one
And break away

Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 19 2016

i want to crawl
out of my skin
air my blood vessels,
calm their restless
nerves, drinking only
makes it worse
i choose to merge
muscles with elements
hot to cold,
snow covered
organs breathing
on their own,
and when i
put them back in
the blood beats
differently,
on the bus rides & in
the traffic jams
i smell tree pines,
fells, mountains

I like her black dress,
the way it pools at her feet.
How she walks to the bed,
spilling over my sheets.
I drown in the depth
of her eyes.

The last time we kissed
I broke out in hives
from the honey on her breath
and the sting of her lies.
I swear, I'd die a thousand deaths
if she were the queen of my hive.