MIGRATION

out over the horizon's touch
far beyond any reasonable land-
where the sun meets the sky
is a place that -never had a name
found in the  glistening waters of
the north atlantic sea; ready to shimmer
like mirrored glass; reflecting on the
bodies of the artic tern and the swallow
as they swoop in their migrational
journey back, looking homeward- not
stopping until- as  a pod of humpback whales
follow along- diving and flapping their tails
being the giant masters of hereditary- who
come  back year after year to the place
they've always known- in their constant search
for a shoal of krill-there till, as the sun sets pink
on a month of transitions-soon to be fully realized

by Michael Perry