RSS

120102 The Dead Darter.

17 Jan

A year after the flood the mangrove grows
green and tall behind the dead stands, and
steps down through them into the brown creek.


The incoming tide brings
a dead darter, a snake-bird, ᷿ʄ̰
and drapes it on a dead mangrove twig. ῃ

The tide turns (rain and salt water rush
down past the dead darter)
and gradually reveals:
the slender neck, grey, swollen, hanging over the twig of mangrove;
the yellow beak, and head;
the hunched dark wings;
the speckled chest, usually well hidden;
all on display;
such a private bird.
The mangrove bends and nods,
bends and nods,
dipping the dead bird,
bends and nods,

and snaps.

A cloud of insects takes to the air; ҈
cheated.

The darter assumes
a familiar pose, head down, as though about to
sink for food or security,

and floats down, past its own kin
fishing near the creek mouth,
in among the mangroves …

Advertisements
 
Leave a comment

Posted by on 17 January, 2012 in #MoP12, POEMS

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: