lies half-in, half-out of the water.
Yesterday, hissing, spread-winged,
she ran at a child who stumbled backward and fell.
The bird then returned, stately and gorgeous,
to its pond, calm and fine as Fourth of July morning.
A man wearing wet shoes sits silently nearby.
Someone has already called police.
_________
for my BFF's flash 55 party.
This is a gut punch. One of the best things that I've read in a long while. The Cohen tag is perfect.
ReplyDeleteWhat Mama Zen said.
ReplyDeleteGah! This poem hurts - terrific impact. I love seeing Mama Zen's name appear, even in a comment. Smiles.
ReplyDeleteI've read this three times, and still, there is more. Passion and terror and tragedy, all in white swansdown, all plain to eyes that see. the wet shoes, especially...just stunning, Shay. I'm so glad you were able to rise to the occasion, and make the occasion rise with you in this case. Hard to believe this is only 55 words.
ReplyDeleteThis moved me to real tears my friend! Absolutely gorgeous!
ReplyDelete