A Fulmar Petrel dances with her Shadow at Durness
Copyright © January 2009 Anne Boileau

Slip-stepping on the salty gusts
against a mewling braid-rock cliff
she and her shadow plunge and lift.
Below, the sea-swell heaves and thrusts
stringy with tangled sea-horse manes.
Straight wings swooping two by two
a strathspey at the caves of Smoo
meeting and parting repeated refrain.
They have it pat, this ecossaise;
the mimicked, mirrored fall and rise,
dancing as in courtship, praise,
a deep-throat waterfall their pipes;
until, alighting on a ledge in the sun,
she folds her wings, and they are one.