Season of the Arribada

(Italian sonnet form–I think)

By Sandy Lender


A multitude came crawling up the sandy shore

Only moonlight off’ring light by which to nest

A thousand sets of flapping flippers sought what ground is best

Mighty turtles one by one raked the ground and tore

Digging, ripping, cavities for their eggs to store

And burying again with solid sand their eggs to rest

Left by moonlight, taking up again their ancient quest

The multitude slipped back to Mother Ocean evermore


For such a great arribada

We pray a season of success

Forgive our lack of sentience

For their lovely sonata,

No other redress

Have we but penitence


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