She used to sing her richest songs
To fishermen who’d lay their traps,
And buffalo who’d turn the swamps,
And bitterns who would stalk the reeds.
The warm lagoons would take her voice
And echo back the melodies:
The tone of sedge, of wave, of scrub,
The cleanest, purest, wash of sound.
She’d breathe her charms beyond the reach,
Where pelicans would clack their beaks.
This paradise between our worlds,
Between the water, land and greed.
What’s lost is truth beyond our plans,
The fragile phrases she once sang.
Gavin R Jones 
Ahh…soft, sad. Beautiful imagery all through this.
I love the melancholic tone of this, the form is very melodic and lilting. Love the imagery, especially the pelicans clacking their beaks. Beautiful writing.
A beautifully evocative write. Love all the senses you brought into play here.
This poem, a gorgeous work of imagery and emotional truth-telling, could be an ode to the work of Rachel Carson.
Thank you. High praise indeed… Silent Spring is still on my “most important reads ever” list (sadly), and I have a horrible feeling that the place in the poem might well be the next example of her words coming to pass… Again, thank you.
It is really beautiful.. There are certain poems that just pull the right stirngs and this is one of them.. i really llike it..
Beautiful, as usual. I like how you state that truth is at stake here.
beautiful!