DIVING

He circles carefully
constantly adjusting altitude
expanding and contracting
his orbits in great increments.
His each move is calculated
that much is obvious.
And you watch him with
a deep fascination. You
are not the only watcher
this day, at this time, others
peer up as he plunges downward
breaking the surface, his head
appearing, thrown back, consuming
what ever it is he plucked.
While I stand watching
the anhinga on the shore
of the pond makes it clear
he finds the pelican
the least graceful
of all his distant kin.

ON THE FLIGHTLINE

We sit on our lanai, which
the birds will tell you is
the backyard of their preserve
and watch the sun bid
its blazing farewell to this day.

The birds begin their scheduled
return, ibis in groups,
the self-declared top guns
flying in hot and flat, only
dropping their arrestor hook
as the approach the deck.

The egrets fly in solo
carefully circling, then
extending their landing gear
until they gently alight
and await their next mission
which will come with dawn.

Through it all the anhinga
perch on the bare branches,
offering their direction, happy
to play air traffic controller,
but the limpkins find
my whole metaphor foolish
and too loudly let me know.

VESPERS

The sun slowly starts
it’s daily retreat, setting
the thinning clouds ablaze.

The birds return, ibis,
egrets, anhinga and kite
and even the limpkin
march slowly across
the lawn to the preserve
that abuts our yard.

They take up their perches
on the trees and bushes
and on the limpkin’s call
begin quietly to recite
their evening prayers
as we bow our heads
in reverence to their faith
that the new morning
will soon dawn for us all.

NORMALITY

The herons don’t seem
particularly happy
even though their
mating season is over,
for the wood storks
have taken over the shrubs
on the island, their
babies endlessly describing
their wants and desires.
Even the anhinga hang
back, staring down,
knowing that soon enough
the little ones will fledge
and life in the wetlands
will return to normal.