Between Some Birds and Me 
Upon driving past a heron at sixty miles per hour on November 29, 2022 

There was a time when herons would arrest 
Me on my path. For more than moment’s I 
Would stop to swallow all this beauty’s best 
Before it loped away. My widened eyes, 
Too greedy for a goodly view, approached 
In heart and mind, and maybe space and time. 
Too soon each bird, disturbed that I encroached, 
Would just unfold its giant wings sublime, 
To lift itself across the lake or stream, 
And haunt another place. But always ghosts 
Of birds that stayed behind in longing’s dream 
Would whisper something known between us most. 
I fear the man who then could not be still 
Enough, now moves too fast — and always will. 

You can listen to me read it here https://soundcloud.com/benwhitepoetry/between-some-birds-and-me