The intent eagle or the loving dove
may guide the hearts of others.
But, for me, the awkward grace
of the flying fortress lives in my dreams.

Old tales picture the pelican as
the icon of self-sacrificing love --
the bird that will feed her children
with her own blood.

Not so for me. This sturdy bird
is no romantic.

Its awkward gait and bad breath
deny the romance of poetic dreams.
A good workmanlike bird,
It gets the job done.

It strains for flight
then sails away with steady economy
to cover the miles.

Ah, my pelican heart,
only carry me through,
and I will forget the clumsiness and bad breath,
to live in your inscrutable grace,
floating with companions in calm water.