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