"anhinga" poems
An air drying Anhinga, wings open, upon an askew cart for groceries, sat thinking of fishes of the scummy retention pool
Feb 10, 2010
Feb 10, 2010 at 7:04 PM UTC
Moon wanes tonight
The woeful Anhinga takes flight
She’s foul fowl, past lovers say
Truest form—Bird of Prey
Mar 27, 2025
Mar 27, 2025 at 11:57 PM UTC